Wish I was in bowling greens Sitting in my chair When I'm around my pretty little gal When I'm around my dear, when I'm around my dear Bowling Green,
I came home the other night as drunk as I could be I saw a horse in the stable where my horse ought to be I said to my wife, my pretty little wife, explain
You made me a pallet on the floor Oh, yes, you made me a pallet on the floor When I had no place to go you opened up your door And you made me a pallet
Here I sit on Buttermilk hill Who can play me, cry my fill And every tear and turn of milk Johnny is gone for a soldier I sold my rock, I sold my reel
Three gates to the north and three in the south There's three in the east and three in the west There's twelve gates to the city, Hallelujah Oh, what
1st verse Cries will fill the dead of night Screaming for the morning light. Insane maneuvers of the mind Shall sow the wrath of all mankind. In crystal
Tejedores de ilusion, comulgadores Tejen grandes vendas, para ocultar La estancada realidad en que vivimos Una triste dignidad Un dia nuevo vendra y
TO THE WEAVER"S GIN YE GO (Robert Burns) My heart was ance as blythe and free As simmer days were lang; But a bonie, westlin weaver lad Has gart me
Did you see it move There's something there It's in this very cloth that I weave In the most peculiar ways that we behave It's the time of the turning
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