Songs That Tell Stories

Don McClean is always worth a listen. He seems to me to lead an intellectual's life, whatever that is.

Christy Moore. Viva La Quinte Brigada.

Reminds me of a very vivid Marty Robbins song...sorta runs like a movie in my head.



El Paso

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl.
Night-time would find me in Rosa's cantina;
Music would play and Felina would whirl.

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina,
Wicked and evil while casting a spell.
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden;
I was in love but in vain, I could tell.

One night a wild young cowboy came in,
Wild as the West Texas wind.
Dashing and daring,
A drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina,
The girl that I loved.

So in anger I

Challenged his right for the love of this maiden.
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore.
My challenge was answered in less than a heart-beat;
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor.

Just for a moment I stood there in silence,
Shocked by the FOUL EVIL deed I had done.
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there;
I had but one chance and that was to run.

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran,
Out where the horses were tied.
I caught a good one.
It looked like it could run.
Up on its back
And away I did ride,

Just as fast as I

Could from the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the bad-lands of New Mexico.

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless.
Everything's gone in life; nothing is left.
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death.

I saddled up and away I did go,
Riding alone in the dark.
Maybe tomorrow
A bullet may find me.
Tonight nothing's worse than this
Pain in my heart.

And at last here I

Am on the hill overlooking El Paso;
I can see Rosa's cantina below.
My love is strong and it pushes me onward.
Down off the hill to Felina I go.

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys;
Off to my left ride a dozen or more.
Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me.
I have to make it to Rosa's back door.

Something is dreadfully wrong for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side.
Though I am trying
To stay in the saddle,
I'm getting weary,
Unable to ride.

But my love for

Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen,
Though I am weary I can't stop to rest.
I see the white puff of smoke from the rifle.
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest.

From out of nowhere Felina has found me,
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side.
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for,
One little kiss and Felina, good-bye.

By the way. Grady Martin played the beautiful classical guitar on this song

Marty got the first ever Grammy for a country song with El Paso. I believe Grady Martin has recorded an instrumental record of El Paso.

Christi Moore has done a fine job also, euro.

Blood on the Saddle? Love that one, edgar.

Robert the Bruce



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlBKO7eCE-c&feature=related

They made a whole computerized story there. I am waiting for them to computerize characters so accurately that they could make a film of, say, Clark Gable and Clint Eastwood, young and healthy, in a brand new film. I am talking about so accurate in detail you would not be able to detect it was a computer job.

This thread made me wonder whatever happened to Don McLean. He is heading toward 66, still performing but none of his recordings have been as successful as American Pie.

http://www.don-mclean.com/
Here is a link to Don Mclean's official web site.

Nice fable, some great photos.

This song tells several great stories. A note: it was difficult to find a version that wasn't fronted with a commercial. In fact, there was one earlier version I liked better than this one but I wouldn't subject the followers of this thread with a commercial.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YUg-vketJ0

They want us to have advertisements where we go and if not that facebook.

Tony Rice doing Gordon Lightfoot...it don't get any better



All the neon lights were flashin' and the icy wind did blow
The water seeped into his shoes and the drizzle turned to snow
His eyes were red, his hopes were dead and the wine was runnin' low
Then the old man came home from the forest



His tears fell on the sidewalk as he stumbled in the street
A dozen faces stopped to stare but no one stopped to speak
For his castle was a hallway and a bottle his only friend
And the old man stumbled in from the forest



Up a dark and dingy staircase the old man made his way
His ragged coat around him as upon his cot he lay
And he wondered how it happened that he ended up this way
Gettin' lost like a fool in the forest



And as he lay there sleepin' a vision did appear
Upon his mantle shining the face of one so dear
Who'd loved him in the springtime of a long forgotten year
When the wildflowers did bloom in the forest



She touched his grizzled fingers and she called him by his name
And then he heard the joyful sound of children at their games
In an old house on a hillside in some forgotten town
Where the river runs down from the forest



With a mighty roar the big jets soar above the canyon streets
And the con men con but life goes on for the city never sleeps
And to an old forgotton soldier the dawn will come no more
For the old man has come home from the forest

My son says that anything that has to be advertised is probably something that you don't need.

I like that song, panz. Lightfoot is a fine songwriter. Truthfully, I like covers of Gorden's songs more often than his versions of them.