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Roy Orbison
Roy Orbison


Информация
Настоящее имя Roy Kelton Orbison
Дата рождения 23 апреля 1936 г.
Место рождения Vernon, Texas, United States
Дата смерти 6 декабря 1988 г.
Место смерти Nashville, Tennessee, United States
Жанры Rockabilly
Pop
Годы 1954—1988
Лейблы Virgin Records
Asylum Records
Mercury Records
London Records
PolyGram Records
Monument Records
Sun Records
MGM Distribution
См. также Traveling Wilburys
Class of '55
Сайт Website



Альбом Roy Orbison


Roy Orbison's Many Moods (1969)
1969
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. . .


I love you I do.
I love you truly truly true.
Truly true.
If the world should end today.I could say.
At least I've had my day with you.
Truly true.

Truly baby.I love you


Truly, truly, truly,true.

And for some the world may end.
But for us it will begin again.and again.
Truly true.I love you I do.
I love you truly truly true.
Truly true.

. . .


Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch, a long lonely time
And time goes by, so slowly and time can do so much
Are you, still mine?
I need your love, I need your love
God speed your love to me.

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the waiting arms of the sea
Lonely rivers cry, wait for me, wait for me
I'll be coming home, wait for me.

Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch, a long lonely time
And time goes by, so slowly and time can do so much
Are you, still mine?
I need your love, I need your love
God speed your love to me.

. . .


Well, if you want someone to tear your world apart
Someone who will give it evrything she's got
If you wanna learn to cry, I recommend her

If you want someone who's really qualified, guaranteed broken heart every time
If you wanna learn to cry, don't let this chance pass you by
I recommend this girl to you, I recommend this girl to you

She's had plenty of experience along this line, oh so many times


She's torn apart this heart of mine, it's fascinating, the way she operates
She'll put you down when you think you're finally getting someplace
I recommend this girl to you, I recommend this girl to you, yes I do

If you want your dreams to end before they begin
someone who will ruin your life, and then laugh while you cry
Don't let this chance pass you by
I recommend this girl to you, I recommend this girl to you
I recommend her, I recommend her, I recommend her, I recommend her...

. . .


More than the greatest love the world has known
This is the love I'll give to you alone
More than the simple words I try to say
I only live to love you more each day

More than you'll ever know
My arms long to hold you so
My life will be in your keeping
Waking, sleeping, laughing, weeping

Longer than always is a long, long time
But far beyond forever, you'll be mine
I know I never lived before
And my heart is very sure
No one else could love you more

No one else could love you more...

. . .


(Orbison/Dees)
1968 Version

Tonight at midnight you came by
I Shook my head, tried not to cry
Halfway weeping, halfway sleeping
Tossing, turning, trembling, burning
Here it comes, heartache

You wore your hair down
I love it that way
You reached out and touched me
And then you faded away

It's unreal, the way I feel
It's almost dawn and you are gone
Here it comes, heartache

Heartache of heartache
Deeper than blue
Teardrop on teardrop
I'm still in love with you

What a way to start a day
here it comes, heartache over you
Heartache for you
Everytime you walk through my mind
I get that old heartache

1974 version

At night I try not to cry
Each tomorrow brings more sorrow
All the time you're on my mind
My heart just aches, it almost breaks
It's almost dawn, heartache

I know it's over
But i don't know why
You reached out and touched me
And then you said goodbye

Oh it's unreal, the way I feel
It's almost dawn the night's too long
My dream is gone
I'm all alone with heartache

Heartache of heartache
Deeper than blue
Teardrop on teardrop
I'm still in love with you

Oh, what a way to start a day
Heartaches today like yesterday
Here comes the sun
No place to run from heart

. . .


Wish that I could wish away love
Every memory
All the things young dreams are made of
That ever used to be

Cos if I could leave it all behind me
There'd be nothing left to constantly remind me
Of Amy, of Amy

She comes and goes just like the seasons


Keeping me on the run
Between the fever and the reason
I'm not the only one

And I guess I'll always feel the same about love
And I'll find it hard to even live without the love
Of Amy, Amy, oh Amy
Amy, Amy, Amy, Amy...

. . .


Were the nights any sweeter
The mornings any cooler, when she was here?
Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?

Should I still feel all the sunshine
That remembering brings to mind with my thoughts of her?
Lord, we both know things could never be the way they were

Her little girl illusions
built the wall of confusion between right and wrong


That stands between her and the dream I had cherished so long

Now faded and tattered, once all that mattered when she was here
And a mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning dear"

Were the nights any sweeter
The mornings any cooler, when she was here?
Or was the mind grown accustomed to hearing "Good morning Dear"?

. . .


Music written by Gilbert Becaud (as "Et Maintenant") with French lyrics by
P. Delanoe. English lyrics by Carl Sigman.

What now, my love, now that you've left me
How can I live through another day
Watching my dreams turning to ashes
And my hopes into bits of clay

Once I could see, once I could feel
Now I am numb, I've become unreal
I walk the night without a goal
Stripped of my heart, my soul

What now, my love, now that it's over
I feel the world closing in on me
Here come the stars tumbling around me
There's the sky where the sea should be

What now, my love, now that you've gone
I'd be a fool to go on and on
No one would care, no one would cry
If I should live or die

What now, my love, now there is nothing
Only my last goodbye

. . .


Walk On
Roy Orbison
Walk on
If you should meet
Walk on
On down the street
Walk on
Don't even look
Walk on
Close up the book

We don't want the world to see us
Like we are
We should never have even gone this far
Quickly brush away that teardrop
Walk away darling
Don't stop
Don't look back for me baby
Walk on

Walk on
Don't turn around
Walk on
To higher ground
Take the love we shared together
Keep it in your heart forever
Don't forget me
Oh baby walk on
If you ever loved me baby
Walk on

. . .


Roy Orbison/Bill Dees
I see the face of yesterday's child,
Living in a state of in between.
Is there a place for yesterday's child,
Searching for an unforgotten dream?

Looking for rainbows at midnight,
Hoping tomorrow will come.
Will time erase for yesterday's child?
What will the child become?

I hear the voice of yesterday's child
Echoing my name, my name, my name.
Is there a choice for yesterday's child,
Seeking shelter from the falling rain?

Chasing a butterfly lover,
Making a run for the sun.
Who will rejoice for yesterday's child?
What is the game to be won?
Will you draw?
Will you fold?
Will you start playing wild?
What is the future for yesterday's child?
Will you turn to dust,
Or go to the sea, racing with destiny?
Oh,look at me,
Born to be yesterday's child.

. . .


Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh so mellow
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain so yellow
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a young and a callow fellow
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow--follow, oh-oh

Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow
Try to remember when life was so tender


That love was an ember about to billow
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow--follow, oh-oh

Deep in December it's nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow
Deep in December it's nice to remember
Without a hurt, the heart is hollow
Deep in December it's nice to remember
The fire of September that made you mellow
Deep in December our hearts should remember
Then follow--follow, oh-oh

Follow, oh-oh

. . .


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