Magic Nights (Live)

作词:Ricky Lynch,Gerard Wolfe,John Spillane

作曲:Ricky Lynch,Gerard Wolfe,John Spillane

所属专辑:Burning Times

歌词

Magic Nights(Live) - Christy Moore

作词:Ricky Lynch/John Spillane/Gerard Wolfe

作曲:Ricky Lynch/John Spillane/Gerard Wolfe

There were magic nights

In the lobby bar when Brendan Ring

Played Madame Bonaparte

And every note that the piper

Would play would send me away

Send me away

Away through the window away

In the rain over the city away

On the air

To a field by a river

Where the trees are

So green the deepest of green

That you've ever seen

Where once you have been

You can go back again

You can go anytime

You can go anytime

Because it's only in your mind

There were magic nights

In the lobby bar with Ricky Lynch

And his golden guitar

Singin' Autumn in Mayfield

And the barley was ripe

And the harvest moon was low

In the sky

We were children our mothers

Were young and fathers

Were tall and kind

And every note Ricky Lynch

Would play would send me away

Send me away

Away through the window away

In the rain over the city away

On the air

To a field by a river

Where the trees are

So green the deepest of green

That you've ever seen

Where once you have been

You can go back again

You can go anytime

You can go anytime

Because it's only in your mind

There were magic nights

In the lobby bar when Ger Wolfe

Would sing like a lark

Singing Winter hung her coat

On a hanger of dark

Singing I am the blood of Eireann

Spilled in a lonely cave

And I am the flower of Ireland

Adrift on the ocean wave

I am the lark of Mayfield

Tumbling down the hill

I am the child of Summer

I can remember you still

And every note that Ger Wolfe

Would play would send me away

Send me away

Away through the window away

In the rain over the city away

On the air

To a field by a river

Where the trees are

So green the deepest of green

That you've ever seen

Where once you have been

You can go back again

You can go anytime

You can go anytime

Because it's only in your mind

It was Autumn in Mayfield

And the barley was ripe

And the harvest moon was low

In the sky

We were children our mothers

Were young and fathers

Were tall and kind

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