Biografia:
Bill Morrissey (November 25, 1951 – July 23, 2011) was an American folk singer-songwriter from New Hampshire. Many of his songs reflect the harsh realities of life in crumbling New England mill towns.
Hailing from New Hampshire in the northeastern United States, singer-songwriter Bill Morrissey wrote about everyday life on the fringes, both geographical--e.g., fading mill towns, railyards, prisons--and interpersonal--e.g., instant infatuation with an unknown woman at a bar.
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Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
Title: Robert Johnson
> Artist: Bill Morrissey
> Album: Inside
>
> Capo on 3. Play like Em, D, C, etc.
>
[Em] In the year of [D]thirty-six,
in the [C]town of San [G]Antone
[Em] a young man in a [D]hotel room
stared [C]down a micro[Am]phone.
[Em]He sang [D]each song once,
and [Bm]sang it once a[C hold]gain.
And [Em]each song come from a [D]hole inside
where a [C]soul once had [G]been.
[Em]Those records [D]made the jukes,
all [C]throughout the south[G]land.
[Em]Pretty women [D]wondered,
was he [C]charmed or was he [Am]damned?
[Em]Look over his [D]shoulder,
was there [Bm]something there he [C hold]feared?
Turn [Em]your [Em]back for [D]just one second,
[C]the man disap[G]peared.
[Em]Word came [D]through Saint Louis,
[C]up through Chica[G]go
[Em]All the way to [D]New York City
where the [C]blues just come and [Am]go
[Em}Someone took his [D]picture once
and the [Bm]angels stopped and [C hold]cried.
In his [Em]eyes it was [D]there to see,
he'd [C]crossed the other [G]side.
[Em]In a bar on a [D]warm spring night,
was a [C]man come to the [G]door.
[Em]He had a bottle with a [D]broken label,
Robert [C]seen his face be[Am]fore.
[Em]He said, "This is my [D]very best.
Drink it [Bm]down, drink it [C hold]slow.
When I call your [D]name again,
you [C]just pack up and [G]go."
[Em]Was it some [D]kind of trick,
or [C]did he jump the [G]price?
[Em]Did he find a [D]way in Hell
to [C]sell his own soul [Am]twice?
There's a [Em]cry in the [D]wind tonight
and only [Bm]one man makes that [C hold]sound...
[Em]Baby, grab your [D]hat and coat...
Robert [C]Johnson's back in [G]town.
> Artist: Bill Morrissey
> Album: Inside
>
> Capo on 3. Play like Em, D, C, etc.
>
[Em] In the year of [D]thirty-six,
in the [C]town of San [G]Antone
[Em] a young man in a [D]hotel room
stared [C]down a micro[Am]phone.
[Em]He sang [D]each song once,
and [Bm]sang it once a[C hold]gain.
And [Em]each song come from a [D]hole inside
where a [C]soul once had [G]been.
[Em]Those records [D]made the jukes,
all [C]throughout the south[G]land.
[Em]Pretty women [D]wondered,
was he [C]charmed or was he [Am]damned?
[Em]Look over his [D]shoulder,
was there [Bm]something there he [C hold]feared?
Turn [Em]your [Em]back for [D]just one second,
[C]the man disap[G]peared.
[Em]Word came [D]through Saint Louis,
[C]up through Chica[G]go
[Em]All the way to [D]New York City
where the [C]blues just come and [Am]go
[Em}Someone took his [D]picture once
and the [Bm]angels stopped and [C hold]cried.
In his [Em]eyes it was [D]there to see,
he'd [C]crossed the other [G]side.
[Em]In a bar on a [D]warm spring night,
was a [C]man come to the [G]door.
[Em]He had a bottle with a [D]broken label,
Robert [C]seen his face be[Am]fore.
[Em]He said, "This is my [D]very best.
Drink it [Bm]down, drink it [C hold]slow.
When I call your [D]name again,
you [C]just pack up and [G]go."
[Em]Was it some [D]kind of trick,
or [C]did he jump the [G]price?
[Em]Did he find a [D]way in Hell
to [C]sell his own soul [Am]twice?
There's a [Em]cry in the [D]wind tonight
and only [Bm]one man makes that [C hold]sound...
[Em]Baby, grab your [D]hat and coat...
Robert [C]Johnson's back in [G]town.
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