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letras de
Van Morrison
RAGLAN ROAD
0 opinión
Letra y Significado de
RAGLAN ROAD,
Van Morrison
Significados y Opiniones (
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Letra
Oh no! Esta misteriosa letra aun no encontro explicación. Si estas acá, podes ser la primer persona que aporte el significado de esta canción. No es necesario registrarse, puede ser anonimo. Hace clic en el botón verde y envianos tu opinión.
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On raglan road on an autumn day,
i saw her first and knew
that her dark hair would weave a snare
that i may one day rue.
i saw the danger, yet i walked
along the enchanted way
and i said let grief be a falling leaf
at the dawning of the day.
On grafton street in november,
we tripped lightly along the ledge
of a deep ravine where can be seen
the worst of passions pledged.
the queen of hearts still baking tarts
and i not making hay,
well i loved too much; by such and such
is happiness thrown away.
I gave her the gifts of the mind.
i gave her the secret sign
that's known to all the artists who have
known true gods of sound and time.
with word and tint i did not stint.
i gave her reams of poems to say
with her own dark hair and her own name there
like the clouds over fields of may.
On a quiet street where old ghosts meet,
i see her walking now away from me,
so hurriedly. my reason must allow,
for i have wooed, not as i should
a creature made of clay.
when the angel woos the clay, he'll lose
his wings at the dawn of the day.
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Mas canciones de Van Morrison con opiniones:
Significado de Brown Eyed Girl
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On raglan road on an autumn day, i saw her first and knew that her dark hair would weave a snare that i may one day rue. i saw the danger, yet i walked along the enchanted way and i said let grief be a falling leaf at the dawning of the day. On grafton street in november, we tripped lightly along the ledge of a deep ravine where can be seen the worst of passions pledged. the queen of hearts still baking tarts and i not making hay, well i loved too much; by such and such is happiness thrown away. I gave her the gifts of the mind. i gave her the secret sign that's known to all the artists who have known true gods of sound and time. with word and tint i did not stint. i gave her reams of poems to say with her own dark hair and her own name there like the clouds over fields of may. On a quiet street where old ghosts meet, i see her walking now away from me, so hurriedly. my reason must allow, for i have wooed, not as i should a creature made of clay. when the angel woos the clay, he'll lose his wings at the dawn of the day.
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