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The Wayfarers
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Lonesome Baltimore Night / Red Is the Rose
Ran in to Sally
It ahd been two years of soughty days
She said：How you doing?
I say well：I've been making my way
And I was just about to slip away to the bar when says
'Look Jack, you know, I can't really stay'
See, I once loved a girl
Her skin was the shard of the sea
Her hair was a briar patch that snared and shattered me
We had an affair like all the rest;
It was full of passion, it was full of chance
And we danced like lovers often will
We stole that sacred glance
Though we tripped too far upon the daisies cold who bloomed too fast for spring
and the singer's ring
His chords were strings and they were broken
never heard
Well I give her a kiss and I wish her well in Dublin and I hope he treat you right
you know, get your ears checked before you get on an airplane
'cause they'd clog up in all that shite
And she stares at me for a second or two
and there was a rumour of a tear in her eye
and she is years away from me
and I whisper goodbye
And some nights I must confess
There is a bottle of Irish whiskey
And some nights I must confess
There are letters that I have written
That I know that I'll never ever send
And some nights I must confess
I'm so lonesome
So lonesome I could cry
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Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows
Fair is the lily of the valley
Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne
But my love is fairer than any.
Come over the hills, my bonnie Irish lass
Come over the hills to your darling
You choose the rose, love, and I'll take the vow
And I'll be your true love forever.
'Twas down by Killarney's green fields that we strayed
the moon and the stars they were shining
The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair
And she swore she'd be my love forever.
Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows
Fair is the lily of the valley
Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne
But my love is fairer than any.
It's not for the parting that my sister pains
It's not for the grief of my mother
'Tis all for the love of my bonnie Irish lass
That my heart is breaking forever.
Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows
Fair is the lily of the valley
Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne
But my love is fairer than any.
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