Вчера ночью, роясь в шкафу нашел старую старую аудиокассету... Вспомнил сразу ее. Музыка кантри. Отец очень увлекался ей (наравне с классическим джазом). Я, за компанию с ним, слушал. Не особо адекватно воспринимая...
А вчера... 90-минутную кассету прокрутил два раза подряд..."Ringo", "Rings of fire", "Green green grass of home", "Ruby"...
КАКОЕ УДОВОЛЬСТВИЕ...
Все, с сегодняшнего дня начинаю искать, покупать, скачивать, тырить :) диски кантри. Только что скачал "Green green grass of home" (до чего же трогательная вещь)...
The old home town looks the same,
As I step down from the train,
And there to greet me are my mamma and my pappa;
Down the road I look, and there runs Mary,
Hair of gold, lips like cherries,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
CHORUS:
Yes, they'll all come to meet me,
Arms a-reachin', smilin' sweetly,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home,
The old house is still standin,
'Though the paint is cracked and dry,
And there's that old oak tree,
That I used to play in.
Down the lane I'll walk with my sweet Mary,
Hair of gold and lips like cherries,
It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.
Then I awake and look around me,
At the four gray walls that surround me,
And I realize that I was only dreaming,
For there's a guard and a sad old padre,
Arm in arm we'll walk at daybreak,
And at last I'll touch the green green grass of home...
As they lay me in the green green grass of home
