by Robin Williamson Running from home full of hope Green as dope and living on our dreams How long ago it seems since we believed in magic Finding love
The wheels roll on and on into the older west Seeking for sleep and you found no rest Old genetic train is railed to the ground And it keeps your smiles
By Ivan Pawle Robin Williamson: Violin, flute, mandolin, bass and vocal. Susie W-T.: Flute solo. Janet Williamson: Organ. Strings in the earth and the
Words and music Robin Williamsson 1978 I learned in school That I was mad if they were sane, you see They had to beat me black and blue They said
Whats in there? Gold and money Wheres my share? The mousie took it Wheres the mousie? In his housie Wheres his housie? In the wood Wheres the wood? The
by Robin Williamson When I was a little boy I used to take the time To go and see old Rab McPhee Down by the railway line He was getting on in years
By Robin Williamson Robin Williamson: Chanter, bironne, chinese flute, jew's harp, bazooki, gong and vocal. In the third part of the year when men begin
As many fine fishes as swim with the tide Sing aberamvane, sing aberoling My herrings the king of them all in their pride Sing aberamvane, sing aberoling
By Robin Williamson Robin Williamson: Guitar and vocal. Stan Lee Buttons: Pedal steel guitar. Rends-moi demain et le lendemain pour toi j'éfface
By Robin Williamson Robin Williamson: Guitar and vocals. Please never name yourself to me enough lies we see even the moonlight come rest, rest awhile
Words and music RW 1978 Wake up Jamie strike a light For while you were lying dreaming IA've been up the waterside All with the gaff and the lantern
Gipsies came to the castle gate They sang so high, they sang so low They sang so sweet, so very very sweet They stole away the heart of the lady-o She
by Robin Williamson Scotland O where I was born And happy I have been It is days come months come long years Since my home I have seen All over North
by Robin Williamson His mother told me everything She had every reason to lie Down there in the laundromant Like his life was tumbling dry Born to be
Young as I remember The scrag end of the war Gypsies through the borders Came a jingling door to door With posies of primroses And all the bonny bloom
I see your faces Blown through the horned clouds In the silent cities They call me so loud Come through the fire Come through the foam Come at the world
Words traditional English, music RW with fugal ideas by Chris Caswell 1978 Oak logs will warm you well That are old and dry Logs of pine will sweetly
green groweth the holly so doth the ivy though winter winds blow ne'er so high green groeth the holly