Testo The Light of Day - Fairport Convention
Testo della canzone The Light of Day (Fairport Convention), tratta dall'album XXXV
They gathered at the Chequers Inn
Like any Friday night
And passed around such stories
That would put the world to right
With music that would warm their souls
Cure their ills and set their goals
With glowing embers in the coals
They talked into the night
For there in Hertfordshire
Where a fiddler's trade is rife
There's one who plays the sweetest tune
Though many more have tried
His eyes have never seen the day
From birth he had to feel his way
Above all others he can play
For a week of happy pride
A night of twist a night of change
A change that no one knew
For one among their number
Would be drawn to daring do
Reflected in the candle flames
Familiar faces local names
And one who'd never be the same
A fiddle bohemian
They talked and talked of Devil's Cave
Beneath the castle mound
And how whoever entered there
By friends were never found
Blind George claimed that it wasn't true
And fear of darkness wouldn't do
And to prove it that night he would go
And venture underground
Soon he would play his fiddle and
Across the countryside so brave
With all his friends behind in line
Going to the cave
But first you put your money down
To bet upon my task
Let everyone be party to
This night is all I ask
And if I come back out again
And beat the demon in his den
You'll hear music from the bravest man
Who ever was alive
So let's do drinks and let's away
The moon will light our path
If any has the heart to come
And leave his glowing hearth
Well, they'll miss the night when time stood still
When fiddle played with iron will
And echoed round the cave until
We shake hands once more
Glasses emptied one by one
He tuned his fiddle one last time
Everyone had placed their bets
So the shot was primed
Away they went into the night
Each winter breath blew smoke
The eerie sound of every call
Of midnight silence broke
All listened as the tune grew faint
Between the Devil and the fiddling saint
Beneath the earth it was too late
To turn around and run
Then they heard a curdling cry
And trembled for the worst
With transpiration on their brow
All felt the dreadful curse
Blind George was screaming like Old Nick
Ah bend it fiddle bend it sit
For he had played the cleverest trick
On those superstitious minds
Eerie appeared into the night
This man with eyes that had no sight
But fiddling there with all his might
He'd seen the light of day
Credits
Writer(s): Chris Leslie
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