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Mark Knopfler
Mark Knopfler




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Альбом Mark Knopfler


Get Lucky (11.09.2009)
11.09.2009
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Southern bound from glasgow town she's shining in the sun
I'm ensconced in mercy on the border run
We're whistling down the hillsides and tearing up the climbs
I'm just a thiever stealing time
In the border reiver.

Three hundred thousand on the clock and plenty more to go
Crash box and leave her she needs the healing tow
Shes not to cold in winter but she cooks me in the heat
I'm a six foot driver but you can adjust the seat
In the border reiver

Sure as the sunrise that's what they say about the albion
Sure as the sunrise that's what they say about the albion
She's an albion she's an albion

The misistry dont worry me my paperworks alright
They can't touch me i got my sleep last night
Its knocking out a living wage in nineteen sixty nine
I'm just a thiever stealing time
In the border reiver.

Sure as the sunrise that's what they say about the albion
Sure as the sunrise that's what they say about the albion
She's an albion she's an albion

. . .


I've got latches for windows
Handles for doors
Grinders and scrapers
And sanders for floors

Rake for the gravel
Chains for the snow
Always got the shovel
You never know
I never thought you'd go

Man's broken down
Man's broken down
On the slip road
Got a slip load
And it's a hard
Shoulder to cry on

Hacksaws and hammers
Brushes and mop
And i've got the ladders
Up on the top

If something needs doing
I always say
You want it done
The proper way
I need you to stay

Man's broken down
Man's broken down
On the slip road
Got a slip load
And it's a hard
Shoulder to cry on

Give me a minute
We'll be going again
Sound as a bell
Right as rain
Right as rain

And it's a hard
Shoulder to cry on
To cry on

. . .


You can't fool a fooler
I can tell
when a John got jazzed
by a Jezebel
You can't beat the house
You can't beat the house
Tell the man somebody
You can't beat the house

When these horn dogs
get lucky with dough
They'll blow it on the roosters
and the girls of Smokey Row
You can't beat the house
You can't beat the house
Now tell the man somebody
You can't beat the house

You want to buy you a dance
don't buy it in here
It's all skin games and jelly roll
red-eye and beer
They're all as mean as rat snakes
all got knives in their boots
Even the piano player, man
he don't care who he shoots

See that little homewrecker
in the backroom?
She'll pick your pocket
with her pet raccoon
You can't beat the house
You can't beat the house
Tell the man, somebody
You can't beat the house

. . .


Before gas and tv
Before people had cars
We'd sit around the fires
Pass around our guitars

Remembering songs
When my daddy was home
He'd play along
On the spoons and a comb

We'd go with the flow
When the weather was fine
Sometimes we'd go
Collecting scrap iron

And we'd sit around the fires
Pass a bottle of wine
In the tales of the road
Since time out of mind

If heaven's like this
Well that's ok with me
Where the living is fine
And living is free

If heaven's like this
Well then here's where i'll be
On the edge of the field
On the edge of the world
Before gas and tv

. . .


The chisels are calling
It`s time to make sawdust
Steely reminders of things left to do
Monteleone
A mandolin`s waiting for you

My fingerplane's working
Gentle persuasion
I bend to the wood and i coax it to sing

Monteleone
Your new one and only will ring
Monteleone
Your new one and only will ring

The rain on the window
The snow on the gravel
The seasons go by to the songs in the wood

Too quick or too careless
It all could unravel
It so easily could

The chisels are calling
It`s back for an encore
Back to the shavings that cover the floor

Monteleone
A call for more
Monteleone
A call for more

. . .


I keep a weather eye on the horizon, my back to the wall
I like to know who's coming through the door, that's all
It's the old Army training kicking in
I'm not complaining, it's the world we live in

Blarney and Malarkey, they're a devious firm
They'll take you to the cleaners or let you burn
The help is breaking dishes in the kitchen - thanks a lot
We hired the worst dishwasher this place ever got
Come in below the radar, they want to spoil our fun
In the meantime I'm cleaning my gun

Remember it got so cold ice froze up the tank
We lit a fire beneath her just so she would crank
I keep a weather eye on the horizon, tap the stormglass now and then
I've got a case of Old Damnation for when you get here, my friend
We can have ourselves a party before they come
In the meantime I'm cleaning my gun

We had women and a mirror ball, we had a dee jay
used to eat pretty much all that came his way
Ever since the goons came in and took apart the place
I keep a tyre iron in the corner, just in case

I gave you a magic bullet on a little chain
to keep you safe from the chilly winds and out of the rain
We're gonna might need bullets should we get stuck
Any which way, we're going to need a little luck
You can still get gas in Heaven, and a drink in Kingdom Come
In the meantimre I'm cleaning my gun

. . .


In summer '63 I was staying alive
hanging at the races, hping to drive
When they were done with the weekend and loading the cars
I couldn't get a pass so I went to the bar

I'm up in the corner nursing a beer
who should come laughing and joking in here
but Bobby Brown, the winner of the sports car race
with some friends and a girl, man, she lit up the place

Bobby was a wild boy - one summer
he knocked down a motel wall with a hammer
He'd do anything - one night for a bet
He raced through the cornfields in a Corvette

I though it's got to be a thrill to be like that
with thte beautiful girl and be king of the track
But the truth is when all was said and done
it was his Cobra I wanted - the car was the one
It was his Cobra I wanted - the car was the one
The car was the one - the car was the one

. . .


On your maypole green
See the winding morris men
Angry alfie bill and ken
Waving hankies sticks and books
All the earthen roofs

Standing at the crease
The batsman takes a look around
The boys are fielding on home ground
The steeple sharp against the blue
When i think of you

Sam and andy
Jack and john
Charlie martin
Jamie ron
Harry stephen
Will and don
Matthew michael

On and on

We will remember them
Remember them
Remember them

We will remember them
Remember them
Remember them

Time has slipped away
The summer sky to autumn yields
A haze of smoke across the fields
Let's sup and fight another round
And walk the stublbed ground

When november brings
The poppies on remembrance day
When the vicar comes to say
Lest we forget our sons

We will remember them
Remember them
Remember them

We will remember them
Remember them
Remember them

We will remember them
Remember them
Remember them

We will remember them
Remember them
Remember them

. . .


I'm better with my muscles
Than I am with my mouth
I worked the fairgrounds in the summer
And go pick fruit down south

And when I'm feel them chilly winds
Where the weather goes I follow
Pack up my traveling things go with the swallows

And I might get lucky now and then
You win some, you might get lucky now and then
You win some

I wake up every morning
Keep on eye on what I spent
Gotta think about eating
Gotta think about paying the rent

I always think it's funny
It gets me everytime
I wonder about the happiness and money
Tell it to the breadline

But you might get lucky now and then
You win some, you might get lucky now and then
You win some

Now I'm rambling through this meadow happy as a man can be
Think I just lay me down under this old tree
On and on we go through this old world of shuffling
If you got a truffle dog, you can go truffling

But you might get lucky now and then
You win some, you might get lucky now and then
You win some

. . .


They had a last supper the day of the beaching
she's a dead ship sailing skeleton crew
the galley is empty the stove pots are cooling
whats left of the stew
the time is approaching the captain moves over
the hang man steps in to do what hes paid for
with the wind down the tide she goes proud ahead steaming
he drives her hard into the shore

so far from the clyde
together we ride
we did ride

a drift to a wave from her bows to her rudder
bravely she rises to meet with the land
under their feet you can feel the kings shudder
the shallow sea washes their hands
later the captain shakes hands with the hangman
climbs slowly down to the oily wet ground
goes back to the car that has come here to take him
through the graveyard back to the town

so far from the clyde
together we ridewe did ride

they pull out her cables and hack off her hatches
too poor to be wasteful with pity or time
they swarm on her carcass with torches and axes
like a whale on a bloody shore line
stripped of her pillars her stays and her stanchions
when their only her bones on the wet poison land
steal rods will drag her with winches and engines

so far from the clyde
together we ride
we did ride
so far from the clyde
together we ride
we did ride

. . .


When i leave this world behind me
To another i will go
If there are no pipes in heaven
I`ll be going down below

If friends in time be severed
Someday we will meet again
I`ll return to leave you never
Be a piper to the end

This has been a day to die fo
Now the day has almost gone
Up above a choir of seabirds
Turns to face the setting sun

Now the evening dawn is calling
And all the hills are burning red
And before the night comes falling
Clouds are lined with golden thread

We watched the fires together
Shared our quarters for a while
Walked the dusty roads together
Came so many miles

This has been a day to die on
Now the day is almost done
Here the pipes will lay beside me
Silent will the battle drum

If friends in time be severed
Someday here we will meet again
I return to leave you never
Be a piper to the end

. . .


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