The Song Collector

The Folk Society meet on Thursday nights
Clear their throats and put their coughs to flight
To sing the dusty cobwebs from the room
A repertoire both in and out of tune
Don't assume a singalong, or worse
This history in song and countless verse
Pays homage to the man who, long ago
Collected all the songs the singers know
Collected all the songs the singers know

Edward Alexander, man of action
Armed only with his reel-to-reel contraption
One hundred years ago in mac and boots
Set out to faithfully preserve the region's roots
And every night in some small village inn
Fortified with fortitude and gin
Mr Alexander, for a shilling
Would thus record your song, if you were willing
Would thus record your song, if you were willing

So word got round, and soon there formed a queue
And the line of willing singers grew and grew
Brass for oohs and aahs? You can't go wrong
When there's someone paying a shilling for a song
When all his tapes are filled up, Edward leaves
There's a history preserved, so he believes
But all the so-called singers back inside
They know they took a city scholar for a ride
They know they took a city scholar for a ride

For they shook the man for every coin he'd got
With words and tunes all made up on the spot
Invented tales not twenty minutes old
So history, like ale, is bought and sold.
The old contraption's packed away and boxed
And a century is marked upon the clock
So tradition holds that Edward's great collection
Is honoured with a weekly resurrection
Honoured with a weekly resurrection

And now the old Society sing the songs
Word for word, and kept where they belong
As once again, they eulogise the past
You can hear the ghosts of history laughing last
You can hear the ghosts of history laughing last

Похожие новости.

Всех Ебал

Две штуки шесть, штуки шесть, я стал по-русски читать Мой первый трэк, первый трэк, как гитлер еб твою мать И сколько лет, сколько много лет, Рэп меня ждал, но наконец, Наконец-то пришел ваш number

Ты Не Знаешь Е

А ты незнаешь ее не понимаешь ее Живешь одним днем живешь одним днем А ты не знаешь ее не понимаешь ее Но все еще вдвоем но все еще вдвоем Любовь достаточно зла и ты

Lovely Day

When I wake up in the morning love And the sun light hurts my eyes And something without worning love Bears heavy on my mind. Then I look at you and the world's alright

Ллється Пісня Буревісна

Ллється пісня буревісна по Лемківщині кругом Гей-гей, ллється пісня - то повстанці йдуть шляхом. Гордо й сміло, вправо й вліво, мазепинки з тризубом. Гей-гей, гордо й сміло - то повстанці йдуть шляхом. Серце в’яне

My Antarctica

Once I thought that I was in control But that was just another trick of fate Playing with my life There have been some times I was so tied up And I said to myself Gotta