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Anthony Phillips




Альбом Anthony Phillips


Private Parts & Pieces II: Back To The Pavilion (1980)
1980
1.
Scottish Suite
2.
Lindsay
3.
K2
4.
Postlude: End Of The Season
5.
Heavens
6.
Spring Meeting
7.
Romany's Aria
8.
Chinaman
9.
Nocturne
10.
Magic Garden
11.
Von Runkel's Yorker Music
12.
Will O' The Wisp
13.
Tremulous
14.
15.
Back To The Pavilion
16.
Lucy: An Illusion (CD extra track)
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Scottish Suite

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. . .

Lindsay

[Нет текста]

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K2

[Нет текста]

. . .

Postlude: End Of The Season

[Нет текста]

. . .

Heavens

[Нет текста]

. . .

Spring Meeting

[Нет текста]

. . .

Romany's Aria

[Нет текста]

. . .

Chinaman

[Нет текста]

. . .

Nocturne

[Нет текста]

. . .

Magic Garden

[Нет текста]

. . .

Von Runkel's Yorker Music

[Нет текста]

. . .

Will O' The Wisp

[Нет текста]

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Tremulous

[Нет текста]

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I saw you today
And, through the distant years,
It all came back.

Two people, young and sheltered,
So unwary of the snares
We now know well.

You're now a woman
But still brown and very beautiful,
You haven't changed.

She took your place – oh, what a face,
Didn't think I needed you
But I was wrong.

She came and she went out
Upon a voyage, it seems
She's never coming back

For now you both are gone
It seems so long ago I was a
Happy man.

I saw you today
It didn't seem as if
You're coming back.

I saw myself today
It didn't seem as if
I'm coming back.

And lo upon the hills
I see a shadow pass
To the other side –
We must accept these things.

Oh, how I love you.
Oh, how I love you.

. . .

Back To The Pavilion

[Нет текста]

. . .


Now, now as the sun climbs the hills,
Softly she skips on the sand,
Daughter of the breeze
Free, like the swifts of the sky, I see her,
Dim, through the panes of my tears, I see her,
Then she is here, mine, always around me –
Mine till the morning mist comes.

Now, now that the evening must fall,
Weary, she sits by the river,
Kind winds toss her hair,
Free, like the swifts of the sky, I see her,
Dim, through the panes of the tears, I see her.

Then she is here, mine, always around me.
Her warm touch, glad to have found me.
Day-long – walking my kingdom,
Her soft smile speaking of freedom.

Now, now that the evening has gone,
Deep in a slumber she lies,
Golden hair to touch,
Free, like the swifts of the sky, I see her.
Dim, through the panes of my tears, I see her,
Then she's no more than just an illusion,
Mine till the morning mist comes.

. . .


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