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New England Folk Music, Anyone?
New England Folk Music, Anyone?
#1
An old favorite of mine, the Ballad of Sainte Anne's Reel





Quote: He was stranded in a tiny town on fair Prince Edward Isle


Waiting for a ship to come and find him


A one horse place, a friendly face, some coffee and a tiny trace


Of fiddlin' in the distance far behind him




A dime across the counter then, a shy hello, a brand new friend


A walk along the street in the wintry weather


A yellow light, an open door, and a "Welcome friend, there's room for more


And then they're standing there inside together




He said, "I've heard that tune before somewhere but I can't remember when,


Was it on some other friendly shore, did I hear it on the wind


Was it written on the sky above, I think I heard it from someone I love


But I never heard a sound so sweet since then




And now his feet begin to tap, a little boy says, "I'll take your hat."


He's caught up in the magic of her smile


Leap, the heart inside him went, and off across the floor he sent


His clumsy body, graceful as a child




He said, "There's magic in the fiddler's arms and there's magic in this town


There's magic in the dancers' feet and the way they put them down


People smiling everywhere, boots and ribbons, locks of hair


Laughtcr, old blue suits and Easter gowns"




The sailor's gone, the room is bare, the old piano's setting there


Someone's hat's left hanging on the rack


The empty chair, the wooden floor that feels the touch of shoes no more


Awaitin' for the dancers to come back




And thc fiddle's in the closet of some daughter of the town


The strings are broke, tbe bow is gone and the cover's buttoned down


But sometimes on December nights, when the air is cold and the wind is right


There's a melody that passes through the town.
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
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#2
For anyone still interested, I found rendition on YouTube. Very nice. Definitely a power song... something with a large, but possibly subtle, effect. Have no idea what yet.

Thanks!
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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#3
I've always seen it as a ghost story, myself.
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
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#4
I suppose, but I don't get that feel from it myself.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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#5
mmm. It's the contrast between the story and the last verse that gets me. The sweet love story... and then cut away to an empty, dusty, long-gone town, the
only trace left is the guy's hat, still hanging there where he left it... *shrug* That's how I always saw it, at least.
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
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#6
More of a "Brigadoon" thing than a ghost story, I'd think...
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
Reply
 
#7
It could play that way, sure.

You're the one writing Doug's subconscious, not me, so... Wink
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
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#8
<chuckle>
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.
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