Texty piesní Fairport Convention

Fairport Convention

Slip Jigs and Reels

He was barely a man in his grandfather's coat

Sewn into the lining a ten shilling note

Goodbye to the family

Farewell to the shore

Till I taste good fortune you'll see me no more

Now the boat on the ocean tossed like a cork

Then one fine mornin' they sighted New York

He stood on the gangplank and breathed in the air

A lowland aplenty I've come for my share

And he did like the ladies, their eyes and the fall

Of their ankles and dresses down on the dance floor

Rollin' the dice, and spinnin' the wheels

But he took most delight in the slip jigs and reels

There's talk of a pistol, and some say a knife

But all have agreed there was somebody's wife

Dreadful commotion, a terrible fight

He left a man dead and ran into the night

On a train to St Louis, just one jump ahead

He slept one eye open, a sixgun in bed

He dreamt of the mountains and great fields of home

Crossing the plain where the buffalo roam

A bad reputation's a hard thing to bear

Mothers pour scorn, and children they stare

So he found consolation in flash company

Things ain't so bad with a girl on each knee

Oh, they called him The Kid, and by 21

All that he knew was the power of the gun

And by 23, he'd shot 5 men down

That got in his way as he rambled around

There's bones on the desert and buzzards that fly

In the highest of circles, just wishing he'd die

But in manners of cruelty, it must be said

A landlord will pick your bones before you're dead

It was wild mescaleros I heard someone say

In the deadliest ambush near old Santa Fe

And the young buck was taken, dressed in a coat

And inside the lining a ten shilling note