Paul Robeson - The Complete Emi Sessions 1928-1939 (2009) by Paul Robeson (보컬) on maniadb.com

Ol' man river
That ol' man river
He don't say nothing
But he must know something
Cause he just keeps rolling
He keeps rolling along
Rollin' along
He don't plant tators
He don't plant cotton
Them that plants 'em is soon forgotten
But ol' man river
He keeps rolling along
You and me
We sweat and strain
Body all aching
And wracked with pain
Tote that barge
Lift that bale
Get a little drunk
And you land in jail
I gets weary
Sick of trying
I'm tired of living
Feared of dying
But ol' man river
He's rolling along

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Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By OSCAR HAMMERSTEIN II, JEROME KERN
<i>Lyrics &copy; Universal Music Publishing Group</i>

I met my brother the other day,
I gave him my right hand,
And just as soon as ever my back was turned,
He scandalized my name.

Now do you call that a brother? No, no.
You call that a brother? No, no.
Call that a brother? No, no.
Scandalize my name.

I met my sister the other day,
I gave her my right hand,
And just as soon as ever my back was turned,
She, too, scandalized my name.

Now do you call that a sister? No, no.
You call that a sister? No, no.
Call that a sister? No, no.
Scandalize my name.

I met my preacher the other day,
I gave him my right hand,
And just as soon as ever my back was turned,
He, too, scandalized my name.

Now do you call that religion? No, no.
You call that religion? No, no.
Call that religion? No, no.
Scandalize my name.

Ol' man river
That ol' man river
He don't say nothing
But he must know something
Cause he just keeps rolling
He keeps rolling along
Rollin' along
He don't plant tators
He don't plant cotton
Them that plants 'em is soon forgotten
But ol' man river
He keeps rolling along
You and me
We sweat and strain
Body all aching
And wracked with pain
Tote that barge
Lift that bale
Get a little drunk
And you land in jail
I gets weary
Sick of trying
I'm tired of living
Feared of dying
But ol' man river
He's rolling along

-------------
Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By OSCAR HAMMERSTEIN II, JEROME KERN
<i>Lyrics &copy; Universal Music Publishing Group</i>

Trains rushin', here and there
Flying machines flashin' through the air
Automobiles all shiny and new
Poor folks with nothing else to do

But when I wanna travel
To the soil I plead
I climb on my wagon
And see

Wagon wheels, wagon wheels
Keep on a turnin' wagon wheels
Roll along, sing your song
Carry me over the hill

Go on mule, there's a steamer at the landin'
Waiting for this cotton to load
Go on mule, the boss is understandin'
There's a pasture at the end of each road

Wagon wheels, wagon wheels
Keep on a turnin' wagon wheels
Roll along, sing your song
Wagon wheels, carry me home
Wagon wheels, carry me home

Sadly one Sunday I waited and waited
With flowers in my arms for the dream I'd created
I waited 'til dreams, like my heart, were all broken
The flowers were all dead and the words were unspoken
The grief that I knew was beyond all consoling
The beat of my heart was a bell that was tolling

Saddest of Sundays

Then came a Sunday when you came to find me
They bore me to church and I left you behind me
My eyes could not see one I wanted to love me
The earth and the flowers are forever above me
The bell tolled for me and the wind whispered, "Never!"
But you I have loved and I bless you forever

Last of all Sundays

Ol' man river
That ol' man river
He don't say nothing
But he must know something
Cause he just keeps rolling
He keeps rolling along
Rollin' along
He don't plant tators
He don't plant cotton
Them that plants 'em is soon forgotten
But ol' man river
He keeps rolling along
You and me
We sweat and strain
Body all aching
And wracked with pain
Tote that barge
Lift that bale
Get a little drunk
And you land in jail
I gets weary
Sick of trying
I'm tired of living
Feared of dying
But ol' man river
He's rolling along

-------------
Lyrics Powered by LyricFind
Written By OSCAR HAMMERSTEIN II, JEROME KERN
<i>Lyrics &copy; Universal Music Publishing Group</i>

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green
And was the holy lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen

And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark Satanic mills

Bring me my bow of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire
Bring me my spears o'clouds unfold
Bring me my chariot of fire

I will not cease from mental fight
Nor shall my sword sleep in hand
'Til we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land

&lt;Set my hand upon the plough,my feet upon the sod
Turn my face toward the east and praise be to God
Ev'ry year the rain does fall,the seedlings turn and spring
Ev'ry year the spreading trees shelter birds that sing.

From the shelter of your heart,brother drive out sin
Let the little birds of faith come and nest therein
God,who made the sun to shine on both you and me
God,who took away my eyes-that my soul might see!