1. |
Johnny
03:39
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I heard about Johnny a long time ago
In a noisy bar from a fine British girl
Rain was pouring down outside and
They were playing some rock n roll
Johnny was a simple man
His coat, his guitar and nothing else
No father, no mother, no friends
Not even a home to live in
Johnny was afraid
Johnny was a friend of mine
Nobody knows where he was going
That day, the cold, the snow
Looking for someone or something
Filling his court and his soul
There are two things you can do,
he used to say
grab an umbrella and hang out
or staying home watching the rain
Johnny was afraid
Johnny was a friend of mine
What you're thinking about Johnny
climbing the steps of that train
You're dreaming so hard
you're having a nosebleed
Johnny was afraid
Johnny was a friend of mine
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2. |
East Paris
03:00
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She
lives in east Paris
in a nice blue house
where time seems to never pass
She
's got a little red guitar
and a lot of things to sing
and a lot of life to paint
She
could say everything
saying nothing but
but her smile
She
she you'd put her in
your little pocket and
bring her always with you
Now she
she is two but she
she has always been
and time keeps staying away from her
She
lived in east Paris
in a nice blue house
where time seems to never pass
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3. |
The cripple of Bruges
04:14
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What if I was not here with my cart
What if I was not playing my part
What if I was not the cripple of Bruges
What if I fell not into disgrace
What if I had not this messy face
What if I was not the cripple of Bruges
If I had the legs I'd run to you
Beautiful girl passing by
If I was rich I'd buy you things
All the things that you need
What if I was not under this rain
What if I was not here with my pain
What if I was not the cripple of Bruges
What if I was not singing sad songs
What if I was whom she belongs
What if I was not the cripple of Bruges
If I had the legs I'd run to you
Beautiful girl passing by
If I was rich I'd buy you things
All the things that you need
What if I was not the cripple of Bruges
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4. |
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In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh, Alive, alive, oh",
Crying "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh".
She was a fishmonger, and sure 'twas no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before,
And they all wheeled their barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh, Alive, alive, oh",
Crying "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh".
She died of a fever and no one to grieve her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Now her ghost wheels her barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!"
"Alive, alive, oh, Alive, alive, oh",
Crying "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh".
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5. |
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Johnny Bemolle's Rome, Italy
We know just a little or nothing about the mysterious Johnny Bemolle. We go around to tell it through his stories and his songs.
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