Ein Mix: Keltische Traditionals und neue Songs |
Songs:
Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free. Stand where the peaks meet the sky and the loughs meet the sea, Where the rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun; And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done. Come by the hills to the land where life is a song. stand while the birds fill the air with their joy all day long, Where the trees sway in time and even the wind sings in tune And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done. Come by the hills to the land where legend remains. And the stories of old fill the heart and may yet come again, Where the past has been lost and the future is still to be won; And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done. Come by the hills to the land where fancy is free. Stand where the peaks meet the sky and the loughs reach the sea, Where rivers run clear and the bracken is gold in the sun; And cares of tomorrow must wait till this day is done. |
Time is spinning like my head, it's moving round and round round and round it moves, and up and down Life is spinning like my time, it's moving round and round round and round it goes and up and down Time, time, where've you gone, I won't come along Time, where have you gone - Leave me alone The past is spinning in my mind, it's moving round and round round and round it moves, and up and down Where have all the flowers gone and the memories of some round and round they move and up and down Time, time, where've you gone, I won't come along Time, where have you gone - Leave me alone My brain is spinning like my life, moving round and round Up and down, left and right, round and round and nowhere All the world a spinning wheel, turning round and round Messy threads are on the ground and dance for me Will I ever pick them up and weave a net for fortune that's turned me down and turned around to spin its own ideas Will they wrap their tentacles around eternity I know what they are made of, but what is their destiny Time,time, I know you've gone but I won't come along Time, where have you gone - Leave me alone |
By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes, Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond, Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond. O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road, And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye, But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond. 'Twas there that we parted, in yon shady glen, On the steep, steep side o' Ben Lomond, Where in purple hue, the hieland hills we view, And the moon coming out in the gloaming. O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road, And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye, But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond. The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring, And in sunshine the waters are sleeping. But the broken heart it kens nae second spring again, Though the waeful may cease frae their grieving. O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road,v And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye, But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond. O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road, And I'll be in Scotland a'fore ye, But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond. |
All around my hat I will wear the green willow And all around my hat, for a twelve month and a day And if anyone should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it It's all for my true love who's far far away Faretheewell cold winter, and faretheewell cold frost Nothing have I gained, but my own true love I've lost I'll sing and I'll be merry when occasion I do see he's a false deluded young man, let him go, farewell he And all around my hat I will wear the green willow And all around my hat, for a twelve month and a day And if anyone should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it It's all for my true love who's far far away The other night he brought me a fine diamond ring But he thought to have deprived me of a far better thing But I being careful like lovers ought to be he's a false deluded young man, let him go, farewell he And all around my hat I will wear the green willow And all around my hat, for a twelve month and a day And if anyone should ask me the reason why I'm wearing it It's all for my true love who's far far away |
Are you going to Scarborough Fair Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - Remember me to one who lives there, For he once was a true love of mine. Tel him to make me a cambric shirt Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - Without any seam or needlework, And then he'll be a true love of mine. Tell him to wash it in yonder dry well Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - Where water never sprang nor drop of rain fell, And then he'll be a true love of mine. Tell him to dry it on younder thorne Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - Which never bore blossom since Adam was born, And the he'll be a true love of mine. Oh will you find me an acre of land Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - between the sea foam and the sea sand, or never be a true love of mine. Then will you plough it with a lamb's horn Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - and sow it all over with one peppercorn, or never be a true love of mine. And when you have done and finished your work Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme - The come to me for your cambric shirt, And you shall be a true love of mine. |
Every night when the sun goes in Every night when the sun goes in Every night when the sun goes in I hang down my head, and mournful cry. True love don't weep, true love don't mourn, True love don't weep, true love don't mourn, True love don't weep, nor mourn for me, I'm going away to Marble Town. I wish to the Lord that train would come, I wish to the Lord that train would come, I wish to the Lord that train would come, to take me back where I come from. It's once my apron's hung down low, He'll follow me through sleet and snow. It's now my apron's to my chin He'll face my door, but won't come in. O how I wish my babe was born sitting on his daddy's knee and me, poor girl, was dead and gone with the green grass growing over me True love don't weep, true love don't mourn, True love don't weep, true love don't mourn, True love don't weep, nor mourn for me, I'm going away to Marble Town. |
Life is a spark in a blazing fire fuelled by time and desire Whirled about by winds of fate bound to vanish in the shade Life won't make the world turn But love will make you burn Life is a symphony, a song you're but a single note, not long. Give it respect to make it strong, it is fragile, don't play it wrong Life will make you learn And love will make you yearn Life is a fantastillion scenes an endless play of facts and dreams Time has donated you a part it may be tiny, but it's yours, so play it smart Life once took what I had owned Then it left me standing there alone So what is yours what is home What's the deal if you go Life won't make the world turn But love will make you burn Life will make you learn And love will make you yearn Life can show you things worth more than gold or diamond rings Life needs trust, it wants truth And it wants to be friends with you Life won't make the world turn But love will make you burn Life will make you learn And love will make you yearn Life won't do what you want But it's all right, you'll get along Life won't make the world turn But love will make you burn ..... |
Téir abhaile riú, téir abhaile riú Téir abhaile riú Mhary Téir abhaile riú 's fan sa bhaile Mar tá do mhargadh déanta Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein Is cuma cé dhein é Mhary Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein Mar tá do mhargadh déanta Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein Is cuma cé dhein é Mhary Is cuma cé dhein é nó nár dhein Mar tá do mhargadh déanta Pós an piobaire, pós an piobaire Pós an piobaire Mhary Pós an piobaire dtús na hoíche Is beidh sé agat ar maidin Tá do mhargadh, níl mo mhargadh Tá do mhargadh déanta Níl mo mhargadh, tá do mhargadh Níl mo mhargadh déanta |
Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing, Onward! the sailors cry; Carry the lad that's born to be King Over the sea to Skye. Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar, Thunderclouds rend the air; Baffled, our foes stand by the shore, Follow they will not dare. Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep, Ocean's a royal bed. Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep Watch by your weary head. Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing, Onward! the sailors cry; Carry the lad that's born to be King Over the sea to Skye. Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar, Thunderclouds rend the air; Baffled, our foes stand by the shore, Follow they will not dare. Many's the lad fought on that day, Well the claymore could wield, When the night came, silently lay Dead on Culloden's field. Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing, Onward! the sailors cry; Carry the lad that's born to be King Over the sea to Skye. Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar, Thunderclouds rend the air; Baffled, our foes stand by the shore, Follow they will not dare. Burned are their homes, exile and death Scatter the loyal men; Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath Charlie will come again. |
Down by the Sally Gardens, my love and I did meet. She crossed the Sally Gardens, with little snow-white feet. She bid me to take life easy, as the leaves grow on the tree, But I was young and foolish, with her I did not agree. In a field down by the river, my love and I did stand Upon my leaning shoulder, she laid her snow-white hand. She bid me to take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs, But I was young and foolish, and now I am full of tears. |
Instrumental |
Oh, the summer-time has come And the trees are sweetly bloomin', And the wild mountain thyme Grows around the blooming heather; Will ye go, lassie, go? And we'll all go together, To pull wild mountain thyme All around the blooming heather; Will ye go, lassie, go? I will build my love a bower By yon pure, crystal fountain, And round it I will pile All the wild flowers of the mountain; Will ye go, lassie, go? I will range through the wilds And the deep land so dreary And return with the spoils To the bower o' my dearie; Will ye go, lassie, go? If my true love will not come I will surely find another To pull wild mountain thyme All around the purple heather; Will ye go, lassie, go? |