Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Beeswing, artist - Christy Moore. Date of issue: 16.11.2017
Song language: English
Beeswing |
| I was 18 when I came to town they called it the summer of love |
| Burning babies burning flags the hawks against the doves |
| I took a job at the steaming way down on Caltrim St. |
| Fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin' next to me |
| Brown hair zig zagged around her face and a look of half surprise |
| Like a fox caught in the headlights there was animal in her eyes |
| She said to me, can’t you see, I’m not the factory kind |
| If you don’t take me out of here, I’ll lose my mind |
| She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing |
| So fine a breath of wind might blow her away |
| She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild (she said) |
| So long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay |
| You wouldn’t want me any other way |
| We busked around the market towns fruit pickin', down in Kent |
| We could tinker pots and pans or knives wherever we went |
| We were campin' down the Gower and the work was mighty good |
| She wouldn’t wait for the harvest, I thought we should |
| I said to her, we’ll settle down, get a few acres dug |
| A fire burning in the hearth and babies on the rug |
| She said, oh man you foolish man that surely sounds like hell |
| You might be lord of half the world, you’ll not own me as well |
| She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing |
| So fine a breath of wind might blow her away |
| She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild (she said) |
| So long as there’s no price on love I’ll stay |
| You wouldn’t want me any other way |
| We were drinking more in those days, our tempers reached a pitch |
| Like a fool I let her run away when she took the rambling itch |
| And the last I heard she was living rough back on the Derby beat |
| A bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a Wolfhound at her feet |
| They say that she got married once to a man called Romany Brown |
| Even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin' down |
| They say her rose has faded, rough weather and hard booze |
| Maybe that’s the price you pay for the chains that you refuse |
| She was a rare thing, fine as a bee’s wing |
| I miss her more than ever words can say |
| If I could just taste all of her wildness now |
| If I could hold her in my arms today |
| I wouldn’t want her any other way |
| If I could hold her in my arms today |
| I wouldn’t want her any other way |