Advanced search | Simple search | Start new search | Home page |
1343 results found
1 51 101 151 201 225 251 301 351 401 451 501 551 601 651 701 751 801 851 901 951 1001 1051 1101 1151 1201 1251 1301 1343 |
Title : | Barbara Allen | ||
Performers : | Luther, Frank, and his Pards | ||
Content type : | Chanson traditionnelle américaine | ||
Audio file : | |||
Images : | |||
Recording medium : | Cylindre | ||
Format : | Blue Amberol (enregistrement acoustique) | ||
Recording location : | New York City, NY, USA | ||
Manufacturer, label : | Edison | ||
Catalogue number : | 5596 | ||
Matrix number : | 7 | ||
Recording date : | 1928 | ||
Instruments : | guitar, harmonica | ||
Color of the material : | bleu | ||
Condition : | Exc++ | ||
Speed (rpm) : | 80 sans filtre doublé | ||
Tools used for data transfer : | Archéophone | ||
Transfer date : | 2002-10-01 | ||
Comments : | Texte du contenu ci-dessous. | ||
Text or lyrics : | Barbara Allen
It was in the merry month of May When flowers were a blooming Sweet Willie on his death bed lay For the love of Barbara Allen He sent his servant to the town The town where she gets well in Sayin' master dear has sent me here If your name be Barbara Allen" (violin) Then slowly slowly she got up And slowly she went to him And all she said when she got there "Young man I think you're dying Oh don't you remember the other day When we were in the tavern You drank a health to the ladies there And slighted Barbara Allen (violin + harmonica) He turned his face onto the wall He turned his back upon her I do I do to all my friends Be kind to Barbara Allen She went on through and through the town She heard his death bells ringing And every stroke they seemed to say "oh cruel Barbara Allen" She looked to the East, She looked to the West She saw his horse coming Oh set(?) him down for me she cried That I may gaze upon him No more she looked No more she breathed She bursted out crying Saying "pick me up And carry me home For I feel I am dying" (whistling) They buried Willie in the old churchyard And Barbara in the new one And from Willie's grave they grew a rose And on Barbara's a green brier They grew, they grew To the old church wall And could not grow any higher And there they tied in a thrill of knots The rose ??? the brier. (harmonica, guitar) |
Advanced search | Simple search | Start new search | Home page |