Avg rating:
Your rating:
Total ratings: 895
Length: 3:40
Plays (last 30 days): 0
And the indian summer is through
In the morning you'll be following your trail again
Fair lady
You ain't calling me to join you
And I'm spoken for anyway
But I will cry when ye go away
I will cry when ye go away
Your beauty is familiar
And your voice is like a key
That opens up my soul
And torches up a fire inside of me
Your coat is made of magic
And around your table angels play
And I will cry when ye go away
I will cry when ye go away
Somebody left us whisky
And the night is very young
I've got some to say and more to tell
And the words will soon be spilling from my tongue
I will rave and I will ramble
I'll do everything but make you stay
Then I will cry when ye go away
I will cry when ye go away
When ye go away...
When ye go away.
i loved this album when it came out, thanks Bill... Mike Scott blows between mediocre and brilliance and this is brilliant
I saw this tour in D.C. at the amazing D.A.R. Constitution Hall. Absolutely blown away is an understatement!
Yep! Came here to see if anyone noticed.
Great song; indeed the mark of a masterpiece, if it makes you sad but melts your heart with poignant, Romantic poetry all the same...
Masterpiece indeed, and one of the few I've given a 10 rating. Same for the entire album.
The stony old lump in my chest melts like a discarded ice-cream in the midsummer sun whenever I as much as think about this song. Gah!
Thanks for that referral - I checked it out the last time I heard this here. And yes, this song especially... the framework is there in earlier versions but it took polishing to get this gem.
take a punt on Savage Heart album
The stony old lump in my chest melts like a discarded ice-cream in the midsummer sun whenever I as much as think about this song. Gah!
Indeed.
Same here
If you're not familiar with them, this album was a huge departure from their earlier work which was superb but not of this ilk at all. Whole of the Moon and Pagan Place are the two standout albums prior to this.
Can't wait to see them tomorrow at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass in San Francisco.
Steve
Songwriters: SCOTT, MICHAEL / LENNON, CHARLES OLIVER
Now he's brought down the rain
And the indian summer is through
In the morning you'll be following your trail again
Fair lady
You ain't calling me to join you
And I'm spoken for anyway
But I will cry when ye go away
I will cry when ye go away
Your beauty is familiar
And your voice is like a key
That opens up my soul
And torches up a fire inside of me
Your coat is made of magic
And around your table angels play
And I will cry when ye go away
I will cry when ye go away
Somebody left us whisky
And the night is very young
I've got some to say and more to tell
And the words will soon be spilling from my tongue
I will rave and I will ramble
I'll do everything but make you stay
Then I will cry when ye go away
I will cry when ye go away
When ye go away...
When ye go away.
They come over here and they take all our land
They chop off our heads and they boil them in oil
Our children are leaving and we have no heads
We drink and we sing and we drink and we die
We have no heads
No, we have no heads
They come over here and they chop off our legs
They cut off our hands and put nails in our eyes
O'Grady is dead and O'Hanrahan's gone
We drink and we die and continue to drink
O'Hanrahan
No O'Hanrahan
They buried O'Neill down in Country Shillhame
The poor children crying and fe dee din de
Hin fle di din fle di din fle de din de
In hey bibble bibble hey bibble bibble hey fle bibble hey
O'Hanrahan
No O'Hanrahan
We drink and we sing and we drink and we sing
(Hey!)
We drink and we drive and we puke and we drink
(Hey!)
We drink and we fight and we bleed and we cry
(Hey!)
We puke and we smoke and we drink and we die
(Hey!)
What does Denis Leary have to do with this song?
They come over here and they take all our land
They chop off our heads and they boil them in oil
Our children are leaving and we have no heads
We drink and we sing and we drink and we die
We have no heads
No, we have no heads
They come over here and they chop off our legs
They cut off our hands and put nails in our eyes
O'Grady is dead and O'Hanrahan's gone
We drink and we die and continue to drink
O'Hanrahan
No O'Hanrahan
They buried O'Neill down in Country Shillhame
The poor children crying and fe dee din de
Hin fle di din fle di din fle de din de
In hey bibble bibble hey bibble bibble hey fle bibble hey
O'Hanrahan
No O'Hanrahan
We drink and we sing and we drink and we sing
(Hey!)
We drink and we drive and we puke and we drink
(Hey!)
We drink and we fight and we bleed and we cry
(Hey!)
We puke and we smoke and we drink and we die
(Hey!)
You just can't go wrong with this band.
Totally agree.
♥
You just can't go wrong with this band.
♥