It isn't a bad version but it isn't even close to being the best! Both the original by Richard Thompson and Mad Dog Mcrea are way better. Of the 2 I prefer the Mad Dog version.
I come to this live version a lot. Beautifully sung, he lets the words tell the story but his heart and soul are in the sorrow and regret but also a love that endures. It’s a rare song.
l remember the Fruit picking in Maidstone , Kent , l lived there , all the Irish College. ☘️🇨🇮 Students would come to work for the Summer months, Apples, Hops, Pears, Plums, and Gooseberries, and Strawberries, we had it all , was known as the Garden of Kent. Love this song and it's Fabulous Singer, l only recently heard this, wonder why l never heard it before, All Great Talented Artists & backup Musicians, the Instruments are mighty fine, l could listen to it all day, Thank you This is what the World needs, good Happy Music so good for the Soul. 💚♥️
@@liamcampbell1611 you have to admit though, this is the best rendition, Richard Thompson did a sterling job writing the lyrics, but you can't bate the whistling donkeys...... :)
“Maybe that’s the price you pay for the chains that you refuse” class line and a deep one Never herd of this song till this week. On the way home from work in Sydney and one of the lad put this on. Class song
Lyrics as he sings them. I was 18 when I came to town They called in the Summer of Love They were burning babies, burning flags And the Hawks against the Doves I took a job at the Steamin Way Down on Cauldram Street And I fell in love with a laundry girl that Was working next to me Brown hair zig-zag round her face And a look of half-surprise Like a fox caught in the headlights There was an animal in her eyes She said to me, O can't you see I'm not the factory kind And If you don't take me outta here I'll lose my miind She was a rare thing As Fine as a beeswing If I could hold her in my arms today I wouldn't want her any other way We busked around the market towns Fruit picking down in Kent we could tinker pots and pans And knives wherever we went We were camping down the Gower one time and The work was mighty good She wouldn't wait for the harvest I thought we should. I said to her we'll settle down Get a few acres dug With a fire burning in the hearth And babbies on the rug She said O man, you foolish man It surely sounds like hell You might be lord of half the world You'll not own me as well She was a rare thing As Fine as a beeswing So fine a breath of wind might blow her away She was a lost child She was running wild, she said As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay you wouldn't want me any other way We were drinking more in those days Our tempers reached a pitch Like a fool I let her run away When she took the rambling itch And the Last I heard she's livin' rough Back on the Derby beat With a bottle of White Horse in her pocket A wolfhound at her feet And they say she got married once To a man called Romany Brown But even the Gypsy caravan Was too much like settling down they say her rose is faded Rough weather and hard booze maybe that's the price you pay For the chains you refuse She was a rare thing As fine as a beeswing I miss her more than ever words could say If I could just taste All of her wildness now If I could hold her in my arms today I wouldn't want her any other way
This is the best version of this song 100 percent,everyone else slows it down too much and try to sing the whole thing with the same amount of effort,this guy let's it flow nicely and puts the right amount of effort in the prefect spots .
Yeah I like their version but has a lot going on the guy singing is very talented but I prefer this much simpler version a lot of galways street clubs videos has a lot going on too much for me
I totally agree, I heard this song sang in a local Pub a year or two ago. As I continued to serve the drinks a tear dripped on my lip and memories of days past flashes in front of me.. And now I 'm home ..Lets sing it again. ☘
Not sure how, but got to this week without hearing this song. While Christy's version is perfection, there is something really special about this version. For anyone who has lost love, the lyrics are so poignant...
Some voice ,,,,,some band ,,,,,,,,,the best thing since sliced bread ,,,,,,getting quite excited about their next output ,,,,,,,they are up there with the greats ,,,,
Wonderful. Honestly I hadn't heard this song until two days ago when I stumbled across this! I've went and listened to all sorts of versions, and this blows them all out of the water. Thank you for this it makes me smile
I was 18 when I came to town, they called it the summer of love They were burning babies burning flags, the hawks against the doves I took a job at the steaming, way down on Caltrim street And I fell in love with a laundry girl that was workin' next to me Brown hair zig zagged around her face and a look of half surprise Like a fox caught in the headlights, there was animal in her eyes She said to me, oh can't you see, I'm not the factory kind And if you don't take me out of here, I'll lose my mind She was a rare thing, as fine as a bee's wing So fine a breath of wind might blow her away She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild She said so long as there's no price on love I'll stay You wouldn't want me any other way We busked around the market towns, fruit pickin', down in Kent We could tinker pots and pans and knives wherever we went And I said to her, we'll settle down and get a few acres dug A fire burning in the hearth and babies on the rug She said, oh man, you foolish man that surely sounds like hell You might be lord of half the world, you'll not own me as well She was a rare thing, as fine as a bee's wing So fine a breath of wind might blow her away She was a lost child, she was runnin' wild She said so long as there's no price on love I'll stay You wouldn't want me any other way We were campin down the Gower one time when the work was mighty good She wouldn't wait for the harvest, I thought we should We were drinking more in those days, our tempers reached a pitch Like a fool I let her run away when she took the rambling itch And the last I heard she's living rough back in the Derby beat A bottle of White Horse in her pocket, a Wolfhound at her feet And they say that she got married once to a man called Romany Brown Even a gypsy caravan was too much like settlin' down They say her rose has faded, rough weather and hard booze Maybe that's the price you pay for the chains that you refuse She was a rare thing, as fine as a bee's wing I miss her more than ever words can say If I could just taste all of her wildness now If I could hold her in my arms today I wouldn't want her any other way
This one of The Whistin Donkey is my favourite I would listen to it all day and I never heard them live hope I will catch them in Galway next time my sons love them too,please lads let me know as I missed you in Tullamore last year.
