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Joan Baez: Michael

In the time spent in the foggy dewWith the raven and the doveBarefoot she walked the winter streetsIn search of her own true loveFor she was Mary HamiltonAnd lover of John RileyAnd the maid of constant sorrowAnd the mother of the doomed GeordieOne day by the banks of the riverMidst tears and gossamerSweet Michael rowed his boat ashoreAnd came to rescue herAnd fill thee up my loving cupFast and to the brimHow many fair and tender maidsCould love as she could then?For was was likened to Pretty Boy FloydAnd also John RileyAnd a rake and rambling railroad boyAnd the Silkie of the Sule SkerryAnd there in the arms of MichaelIn their stolen hourLoud rang the bells of RhymneyFrom the ancient church bell towerAnd there in the night with MichaelWhile he lay fast asleepShe put her head to the window paneAnd in the fullness of love did weepAnd fill thee up my loving cupFast and to the brimHow many fair and tender maidsWill love as she did then?You've heard of the House of the Rising SunAnd what careless love can doYou've heard of the wildwood flowerThat fades in the morning dewAnd of the ship that circles three times roundAnd sinks beneath the seaYou've heard of Barbary AllenAnd now you've heard of meSo fill thee up my loving cupFast and to the brimHow many fair and tender maidsWill ever love again?
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Inne teksty wykonawcy

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