Search results for 'roof-tree'

King Henry

Steeleye Span

Below the Salt

1972

on the floor.

Her head hit the roof-tree of the house,
Her middle you could not span,
Each frightened huntsman fled the hall
And left the king alone,
Her

Whither Must I Wander

Martha Wainwright

Martha Wainwright [Bonus Tracks]

2005

the rain and my roof is in the dust

Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree
The true word of welcome was spoken in the door -
Dear days of old with

the rain, and my roof is in the dust
Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree
The true word of welcome was spoken in the door 
Dear days of old, with

the rain and my roof is in the dust.
Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree,
The true word of welcome was spoken in the door
Dear days of old with

the world today
To halls and cottage hasting
Come, sparrow and dove, from roof tree tall
And share our Christmas feasting.

Dance, little child, on mother's

Men make them fires on the hearth
Each under his roof-tree
And the Four Winds that rule the earth
They blow the smoke to me

Across the high hills

high, I might sleep on the roof
Family tree money tree stick to my roots
Woo, woo, woo, aye
Family gotta eat call them up for a cookout
Keep the door lock

And darkness covered all the hall
And open burst the door
And in there came a dreadful ghost
Stood stamping on the floor.

Their head hit the roof-tree

And from the roof tree tops
There run reindeer
And for the hops of the children
Waiting all of the year
Don't matter who you are, who you are
And if you got

the rain and my roof is in the dust.
Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree,
The true word of welcome was spoken in 
the door 
Dear days of old with

Snow

Loreena McKennitt

Celtic Voices [Keltia]

1998

on roof and tree
Falls down scarce audibly. 

The meadows and far-sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound;
Like some soft minister of dreams
The snowfall

green
Couple joints, couple hoes, couple mothafucking fiends
Rocking wit the Boof through the roof blowing tree
Surf on up to cloud nine flying while

on roof and tree -- 
Falls down scarce audibly.

The meadows and far, sheeted streams
Lie still without a sound.
Like some soft minister of dreams,

Snow on the field
The roof the tree
The frozen water
The fog rolls on
The burning sun
Makes it suddenly lift
The haze the shade
The muffled sounds

Suicide Blonde

Jack's Mannequin

The Glass Passenger

2008

news from the CNN
Like sheep to the slaughter

Watched the planes landing from the roof
Of my tree house in Burbank
I had that dream I was taking

said yes
Making our home look like Christmas
Putting up stockings and lights on the roof
The Christmas tree taking most of the room
Everyone's dreaming

the street
And I remember you sometimes as the girl I was scared to meet
Swung from the roof to the tree, Tarzan and Jane
Alot in love, a little insane

Little bird
On the gutter
No one’s told you
Where’s your shelter

You spend your time
Looking for a home
A roof here, a tree there
None of them fit

Suicide Blonde

Jack's Mannequin

The Glass Passenger [CD/DVD]

2008

sheep to the slaughter

Watched the planes landing from the roof
Of my tree house in Burbank
I had that dream I was taking off
I brought my girl to keep

I have come to know sorrow as a big, black bird
Landing in my heart as if my heart is any old roof top or tree
No one’s to keep
No one’s to hold
No

the roof
Trim the tree, gotta upload proof
Mop the floors, gonna fill in the forms
Map the maze, gonna be ignored
Patch the crack, gotta match the paint
Fix

It's preposterous I'm not the size of a rhinoceros
Bellowing from the roofs and the tree tops
I do not have an inside voice!
Quiet or loud was never

spirit's awake
So my aura trumps roofs
And my tree grow strong roots
Murder your ego
Please the star in your head
What is the money worth when everyone's

accommodates 
And for all with no roof, fire or tree, may them kind fate await some date

But Merry Christmas, to you 
May all your desires your hopes