1. |
Kawai
04:15
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adapted from 'A More Ancient Mariner' by Bliss Carman (1861-1929)
He dares to boast, along the coast,
The beauty of Highland Heather,--
How he and she, with night on the sea,
Lay out on the hills together.
His morals are mixed, but his will is fixed,
He prospers after his kind,
And follows an instinct, compass-sure,
Philosophers call blind.
There's a soul in the garden who wished days were shorter,
When B goes to sea with the wind in her corner,
So they I've got my doubts, but the flowers are human,
And the valor and golf of a vagrant woman.
And that is why, when he comes to die,
He'll have an easier sentence,
Than someone I know who thinks just so,
And leaves room for repentance.
Than someone I know who thinks just so,
And leaves room for repentance.
There's a soul in the garden who wished days were shorter,
When B goes to sea with the wind in her corner,
So they I've got my doubts, but the flowers are human,
And the valor and golf of a vagrant woman.
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2. |
Bluebell
03:57
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adapted from 'The Bluebell' by Anne Bronte (1820 - 1849)
Before me rose a lofty hill,
Behind me lay the sea,
My heart was not so heavy then,
As it was not to be.
Yet I recall,
Not long ago x2
Bluebell
But when I looked upon the bank,
My wandering glances fell,
Upon a little trembling flower,
A single sweet blubell.
Yet I recall,
Not long ago x4
Bluebell
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3. |
Good Eats
03:55
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adapted from 'A Lonely Moment' by Susan Coolidge
I sit alone in the gray,
The snow falls thick and fast,
A sound I've heard all day,
The wailing of the blast.
There seems no living thing,
Left in the world but I,
My thoughts fly by on my wing,
And drift back wearily.
No one to care,
No one to know x2
I think of tumbling seas,
Beneath cruel, lonely skies,
Just shipwrecked sailors now,
Stretching hungry eyes.
No one to care,
No one to know x2
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4. |
25 Times
01:35
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[instrumental]
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5. |
Worry
03:35
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adapted from 'A Song From the Player Queen' by William Butler Yeats
'He went away,' my mother sang,
When I was brought to bed,
And all the while, her needle pulled
The gold and silver thread.
She pulled the thread and bit the thread
And made a golden gown,
And wept because she'd dreamt that I
Was born to wear a crown.
'When she was got,' my mother sang,
I heard a sea-mew cry,
And saw a flake of yellow foam
That dropped upon my thigh.
How therefore could she help but braid
The gold into my hair,
And dream that I should carry
The top of golden care.
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6. |
Garden Burger
04:39
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[instrumental]
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