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Publié par Moicani - L'Odéonie

Ballad Of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let It Roll):

Let it roll across the floor
Through the hall and out the door
To the fountain of perpetual mirth
Let it roll for all it's worth

Find me where ye echo lays
Lose ye bodies in the maze
See the lord and all the mouths he feeds
Let it roll among the weeds
Let it roll

Let it roll down through the caves
Ye long walks of Coole and Shades
Through ye woode, here may ye rest awhile
Handkerchiefs to match your tie
Let it roll

Let it roll, let it roll
Let it roll, let it roll

Fools illusions everywhere
Joan and Molly sweep the stairs
Eyes that shining full of inner light
Let it roll into the night

Let it roll, let it roll
Let it roll, let it roll
Let it roll, let it roll

Past is Gone Thou Canst Not Recall,
Future is Not, May Not Be at All,
Present is, Improve the Flying Hour,
Present is Only Within Thy Power.

Sir Frank Crisp (1843-1919)

Flying Hour 

All through my life I've been hearing
All about those good old days.
It makes no diff'rence, 
What was or what may be.
The past it is gone,
The future may not be at all,
The present improve the flying hour. 

Some people look into the future,
They're hoping that they'll see better days.
It's such a sweet thought,
It's something that could be but
The past it is gone,
The future may not be at all,
The present improve the flying hour. 

What was and what may be,
Is not here, it is not clear to me.
Right now is the one thing
That I can feel, the one thing real to me,
Uh-uh - uh-uh. 

So as you sit back to remember
That which you cannot recall.
It makes no diff'rence, 
What was or what may be.
The past it is gone,
The future may not be at all,
The present improve the flying hour. 

It makes no diff'rence, 
What was or what may be.
The past it is gone,
The future may not be at all,
The present improve the flying hour, uh-uh, uh-uh. 

The past it is gone,
The future may not be at all,
The present improve the flying hour.

 

 

Scan not a friend with a microscopic glass. You know his faults now let his foibles pass. Life is one long enigma my friend. So read on, read on, the answer’s at the end.

  - Frank Crisp, 1886


 

Scan not a friend with a microscopic glass
You know his faults, now let the foibles pass
Life is one long enigma, my friend
So read on, read on, the answer's at the end

Don't be so hard on the ones that you love
It's the ones that you love we think so little of
Don't be so hard on the ones that you need
It's the ones that you need we think so little of

The speech of flowers excels the flowers of speech
But what's often in your heart, is the hardest thing to reach
And life is one long mystery, my friend
So live on, live on, the answer's at the end

Don't be so hard on the ones that you love
It's the ones that you love we think so little of
Don't be so hard on the ones that you need
It's the ones that you need we think so little of

Don't be so hard on the ones that you love
It's the ones that you love we think so little of
Don't be so hard on the ones that you need
It's the ones that you need we think so little of

Oh, we think so little of the ones that we love, sometimes
Isn't it a pity how we hurt
The ones that we love the most of all
The ones we shouldn't hurt at all

You know my faults, now let the foibles pass
'Cause life is one long enigma, my friend
Live on, live on, the answer's at the end

Don't be so hard on the ones that you love
It's the ones that you love we think so little of
Don't be so hard on the ones that you need
It's the ones that you need we think so little of

Don't be so hard on the ones that you love
It's the ones that you love we think so little of
Don't be so hard on the ones that you need
It's the ones that you need we think so little of

The ones that we love
We hurt the most of all, sometimes
And isn't it a pity how
We hurt the ones that we love [fade]

 

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