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.

Real Niggaz

[Phenom] Mo'fucker when we bang bang, squeezing pistols that make em bang Haters smoking that swisha swisha sweet boy, switching damn lanes Pulling guns and put two in your stomach, nigga who want

One Child

An angel appeared Of the highest One And Mary believed The word she received Of God's only son The Virgin rejoiced Gave thanks to the Lord And as Joseph dreamt The angel was sent With tidings of piece and

What Have You Got Planned Tonight Diana

I remember it all started in 1929 when me and Diana came to Alaska To homestead some of this free government land Forty mile from the nearest gravel road we cut our

Я Не Бачу Кольорових Снів

Спить небо я нічого не бачу На блакитному фоні і нічого не чую Та якщо подумати то нема що втрачати На ранок все накриється я знову занудьгую Всі живемо у світі якого не знаємо І

Холода.нет

Произносились все слова, и 3 на 2 никак не делится Раскладываю заново под проливными наш огонь Кому-то снятся острова, когда метелица Я наблюдаю в каждом сне твою ладонь Там линии жизни нашиx сплетаются И нет