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Marianne Faithfull
Marianne Faithfull


Информация
Настоящее имя Marianne Evelyn Faithfull
Дата рождения 29 декабря 1946 г.
Место рождения Hampstead, London, England
Жанры Rock
Pop
Folk
Jazz
Blues
Годы 1964—н.в.
Лейблы RCA Records
Island Records
Decca Music Group
Columbia Records
Sanctuary Records
London Records
ANTI-
См. также Metallica
The Rolling Stones
Andrew Loog Oldham
Сайт Website



Альбом Marianne Faithfull


North Country Maid (1966)
1966
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. . .



Green are your eyes
In the morning when you rise.
Don't you be afraid, my love,
To lie by me,
Your father will not know.

Love can be broken
Though no words are spoken.
Don't you be afraid to lie
By me my love,
Your father will not know.

Love, don't cry

I'll not try.
Don't you be afraid to lie
By me, my love,
Your father will not know.

Yes love, don't you cry,
I'll not try.
Don't you be afraid to lie
By me, my love.
Your father will be told someday
About our wedding day


. . .



Have you been to scarborough fair
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Remember me to one that lives there
For once she once was a true lover of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
One with no seams, of fine needlework
And then she'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell her to dry it 'pon yonder thorn
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
That never bore fruit since adam was born
And then she'll be a true lover of mine.

Ah, can you find me an acre of land

Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Between the salt sea and the sea sand
Or never be a true lover of mine.

And can you plough it with a sheep's horn
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
And sow it all over with one peppercorn
Or never be a true lover of mine.

And when you have done and finished your work
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
Then come to me for your cambric shirt
And then you'll be a true lover of mine


. . .



When cockleshells turn silver bells
Then will my love return to me
Then will my love return to me
Then will my love return to me

Love return to me
Love return to me
Love return
Love return
Love return to me.

In pastures green
I shall be seen
With my true love right by my side
With my true love right by my side
With my true love right by my side

Love right by my side
Love right by my side
Love right by
Love right by
Love right by my side.

When I return then you shall learn

That I shall be my true love's bride
That I shall be my true love's bride
That I shall be my true love's bride

Be my true love's bride
Be my true love's bride
Be my true love's
Be my true love's
Be my true love's bride.

When love gets old it grows cold
And then true love will fade away
And then true love will fade away
And then true love will fade away

True love fades away
True love fades away
True love fades
True love fades
True love fades away


. . .



It's a lesson too late for the learning
Made of sand, made of sand
In the wink of an eye my soul is turning
In your hand, in your hand.

Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind ?
I could have loved you better, didn't mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind.

You've got reasons a-plenty for going,
This I know, this I know.
For the weeds have been steadily growing,
Please don't go, please don't go.

Are you going away with no word of farewell,

Will there be not a trace left behind ?
I could have loved you better, didn't mean to be unkind,
You know that was the last thing on my mind.

As I lie in my bed in the mornin'
Without you, without you.
Every song in my breast dies a born-in
Without you, without you.

Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind ?
I could have loved you better, didn't mean to be unkind
You know that was the last thing on my mind


. . .


The first time ever I saw your face
I saw the sun rise in your eyes
That the moon and stars were a gift you gave
To the dark and the empty skies, my love,
To the dark and the empty skies.

The first time ever I kissed your mouth
And felt the earth move close to mine
Like the trembling heart of a captive bird
That was there at my command, my love,
That was there at my command.

The first time ever I lay with you
And felt your heart beat close to mine,
I thought our joy would never end
And would last till the end of time, my love,
And would last till the end of time.

. . .



Sally, free and easy,
That should be her name.
Sally, free and easy,
That should be her name.
Took a sailor's lovin'
For a nursery game.

Oh, the heart she gave him
Was not made of stone.
Oh, the heart she gave him
Was not made of stone.
It was sweet and hollow
Like a honeycomb.

Think I'll wait till morning,

See the ensign down.
Think I'll wait till sunrise,
See the ensign down.
See my coffin coming,
To my burial groun'.

Sally, free and easy,
That should be her name.
Sally, free and easy,
That should be her name.
Took a sailor's lovin',
For a nursery game


. . .



On the firefly platform of sunny goodge street
A violent hash-smoker shook a chocolate machine
Involved in an eating scene

Smashing into neon streets in their stillness
Smearing their eyes on the crazy kalI goddess
Listening to sounds of mingus mellow fantastic.

"my, my", they sigh.

In dull house rooms with coloured lights swinging
Strange music boxes sadly tinkling

Drink in the sun shining all around you.

"my, my", they sigh.

The magician, he sparkles in satin and velvet,
You gaze at his splendour with eyes you've not used yet.
I tell you his name is love, love, love.

"my, my", they sigh.
"my, my", so high.
"my, my" they sigh.

Hmm, hmm.
Hmm, hmm.
Hmm, hmm


. . .



How should I your true love know
From the other one ?
By his cockle hat and staff
And his sandal shoon.

He is dead and gone, lady,
He is dead and gone.
At his heels the grass-green turf

At his head a stone.

How should I your true love know
From the other one ?
By his cockle hat and staff
And his sandal shoon


. . .


My young love said to me, "My brothers won't mind
And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind"
Then she turned her head to me and this she did say
"It will not be long, love, till our wedding day"

She turned away from me and she moved through the fair
And I watched her so swiftly move here and move there
Then she turned away homeward with one star awake
Like a swan in the evening moves over the lake

Last night, I did dream that my dead love come in
So softly she entered that her feet made no din
And she turned her head to me and this she did say
"It will not be long, love, till our wedding day"

. . .



A north country maid up to london has strayed
Although with her nature it did not agree.
So she wept and she sighed and bitterly she cried,
"oh, I wish once again in the north I could be."

For the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
They all grow green in the north country.

While sadly I roam I regret my dear home,
Where the lads and young lasses are making the hay.
Where the birds sweetly sing, and the merry bells do ring

And the maidens and meadows are pleasant and gay.

For the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
They all grow green in the north country.

No doubt if I please, I could marry with ease,
Where maidens are fair, many lovers will come.
But he that I wed must be north country bred
And carry me back to my own country.

For the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
They all grow so green in the north country


. . .



Hush now little one,
The day has lost its glow
The night falls softly round
The sandman's sleepy saws.
Sleep.

The stars will shine tonight
High up in the sky.
The breeze will sing a song
As he goes hurrying by.
Sleep.

For you the sun will rise,

For you the dawn will break.
Hush now, all is still,
Hush now till you wake.
Sleep.

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh.
Sleep.
So sleep


. . .



Oh the summertime is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Blooms around the purple heather.
Will you go, lassie, go.

And we'll all go together
To pick wild mountain thyme
All around the bloomin' heather.
Will you go, lassie, go.

I will give my love a bowl
By young clear crystal fountain
And in it I will place
All the flowers of the mountain.
Will you go, lassie, go.

And we'll all go together
To pick wild mountain thyme
All around the bloomin' heather.
Will you go, lassie, go.

If my true love she won't go
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather.
Will you go, lassie, go.

And we'll all go together
To pluck wild mountain thyme
All around the bloomin' heather.
Will you go, lassie, go


. . .



I'm staring at the setting of the sun
For I know my time with you is nearly gone
And my minutes, they're so precious, yes, each and every one
As I try to make the most of what is least.

I've a weary kind of feeling in my mind,
I'll try to look ahead and not behind.
And I know that you don't mean to be unkind
As I try to make the most of what is least.

The rain is dripping down my window pane
And if you came back to me, it wouldn't be the same.
I know the end is near and I'll try to battle on

As I try to make the most of what is least.

I'm staring at the setting of the sun
For I know my time with you is nearly gone
And my minutes, they're so precious, yes, each and every one
As I try to make the most of what is least.

Lonely nights down by the railroad track,
I see you going and never coming back.
I'll try, I'll try, I'll try to battle on
As I try to make the most of what is least


. . .



The wild mountain thyme that grows around my door
Has grown there for two score years or more
But I've grown weary waiting for love to say,
"come my way, come my way."

The brook that sings and twinkles in the sun
Has danced this mercy bounce since time begun

But o how weary and how long the day
Will he say, "come my way."

Lovers all around, I wish you joy,
Happiness to every girl and boy.
But sometimes spare a thought of me and say
"love come her way," come my way


. . .



Fare thee well, my own true love
Fare thee well a while,
For the ship is a-waiting and the wind blows free
And I am bound away for the sea,
Mary Ann.

If I had a flask of gin,
Whiskey there for two
And a great big bowl for to mix them in
I'd mix a drink for you my dear
Mary Ann.

The lobster boiling in the pot,
The bluefish on the hook;
The pain they bear is nothing like

The ache I bear for you, my dear
Mary Ann.

Fare thee well, my own true love
Fare thee well a while,
For though I go I'll surely come again
Though it be ten thousand miles, my dear
Mary Ann.

Fare thee well, my own true love
Fare thee well, my dear,
For the ship is a-waiting and the wind blows free
And I am bound away for the sea,
Mary Ann


. . .


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