Biografia:
Darren Hanlon is a singer/songwriter from Gympie in Queensland, Australia.
Before becoming a solo artist in 1999, he was a member of The Simpletons, and contributed backing guitar and keyboards for The Lucksmiths, The Deerhunters, and Mick Thomas.
Darren is known for his engaging and down-to-earth folk-pop storytelling as well as his often charming lyrics.
Read more on Last.fm
Outras músicas:
- A To Z
- All These Things
- Butterfly Bones
- Cast Of Thousands
- Couch Surfing
- Elbows
- Falling Aeroplanes
- Fire Engine
- Folk Insomnia
- Home
- I Wish That I Was Beautiful For You
- Kickstand Song
- Modern History
- Notes On Leaving
- Ostracism Of Vinny Lalor
- Punks Not Dead
- Record Store
- Scenes From A Separation
- She Cuts Hair
- Spend Christmas Day With Me
- The Guitar
- When You Go
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!
Capo 3
[Verse]
Am G
It was a sunday in east Berlin i chanced upon a market
Am
i though how love or lack thereof matched the coins in my pocket
G
but thats ok i have no pay im happy all the same
Am
to look through a box of broken clocks and old Atari games
C G Am
and racks of army uniforms of both the west and east
C G Am
and postcards sent to people who were long ago deceased
Am G
a plastic orange comb left over from the GDR
Am
and in a nook behind some books an old parlour guitar
Am G
it was sat upon a wooden packing crate that had been flipped
Am
and if the chance the cursory glance youd call it non descript
G
but i double took i stopped to look and its just one of those things
Am
i do when at a loss i reached across and lightly brushed the strings
C G Am
the sound both deep and ancient came up from the hole beneath
C G Am
the kind that comes from timber given in to times bequethed
C G Am
enough for me to wonder i put up my hand to hale
C Em Am
the vendor of the table just to ask... if its for sale
[Break]
Am G
well he had a chin with whiskers in and in between his lips
Am
he held a cigarette he hadnt lit i took him for a gypsy
G
he stooped and bent and complimented me on my selection
Am
to my surprise within his eyes i saw my own reflection
C G Am
i dont him im not buying im just interested to know
C G Am
so i thought how love or lack thereof matched my fiscal flow
C G Am
he asked me for my name and when he handed it to me
C Em Am
he said it undignified to talk of money... before history
[Break]
and then he said....
Am G
if you hold it right up to the light in pencil can be seen
Am
the signature of the luthier and the date 1918
G
but sir have you got the certificate of authenticity
Am
he said whats the point when you can get the story straight from me
Am G
a russian commander first saw it in a shop window in munich
Am
he was on a stroll and felt the roll of deutchmarks in his tunic
G
he bought it on a whim and to his friend the commisar
Am
said if i survive this war alive ill learn to play guitar
C G Am
he had one final 7 week assignment with his unit
G Am
and im sad to say he was blown away before he learned to tune it
[Break]
Am G
it was sent back to his greiving widow with the rest of his effects
Am
and it languished there under the stair right where the dust collects
G
but there came a day when she passed away as well and without kin
Am
so through her stash and it was labelled trash and put out with the bin
C G Am
it was only sitting on that lonely street in Leningrad
C G Am
for an hour or two before being rescued up by a young lad
G
he was on the hop afraid to stop for long for fear of prison
Am
a balchevik who had been made awefully sick by communism
C G Am
he was disenchanted by the practice of the party scheme
C G Am
how it proved all men are equal seemed to be a tad extreme
C G Am
he walked down by the baltic sea and there he hopped a freigter
C Em Am
and not a word was heard from him again... until many years later
[Break]
Am G
the old man stopped to rest and get his breath and his eyes they started glazing
Am
over i told him this story was both trajic and amazing
G
oh dont stop now i must know how this ends and please be quick
Am
do you know whht became of this mutanous balchevik?
[Break]
G
well the old gyspy looked back at me and his eyes they seemed to clear
Am
he said in 34 he went ashore in the city of Tangier
G
but he came undone as hed become from all those years at sea
Am
addicted to, as sailors do, port wine and gin rummy
C G Am
and one night in a game in a cafe near the medina
C G Am
as the hour grew ever late the balchies kitty it grew leaner
C G Am
and when his francs were gone he prayed upon the evening star
C Em Am
they took the coat that he was wearing, watch and ring....and that guitar
[Break]
Am G
it was won by a german banker who liked it all just fine
Am
who'd grown soft with drinking thinking of his frauline
G
while still abroad he'd learned some chords and in a few months later
Am
when hes again back in berlin hed sit and serenade her
C G Am
he was held back in Morocco by the start of World War II
C G Am
and he learnt she'd met a young cadet and the two of them shot through
Am G
he cursed and spat and vowed that as long as she still lingered
Am
he'd much rather than play guitar, cut off all his fingers
[Break]
Am G
well i felt sorry for this banker but it just didnt align
Am
if its 34 didnt the war begin in 39?
G
Pedant! he cried, would you deny me a single concession
Am
just let me tell you how this thing came into my possession.
G
i bought it from a local pedler, who bought it from a priest
Am
who drove his congregation mad with it to say the least
G
he'd picked it up for next to nothing browsing at a parish fete
Am
donated out of charity from a deceased estate
[Accel]
G
of a lovely music teacher who played it for her pupils
Am
who'd earlier procured it from a man with dubious scrupols
G
who'd pinched it from a folk rock busker somewhere in the town
Am
who'd been playing in Alexanderplatz the night the wall came down
G
he got it cheaply off a man who run a music store for cash
Am
who swapped it from a trader with a handlebar moustache
G
who found it in a paper where it had been advertised
Am
by the son of that German banker who's old girlfriend he despised
G
you'd think any normal person would have just gone out and sold it
Am
but he kept it as a token of the time he was cuckolded
G
he hid it in his attick and it survived the war up there
Am
for 30 years until his son went looking for a chair
G
his dad refused to talk of it until he turned up his toes
Am
but now its found its way to you just give me 400 Euros.
Am G
The blood drained right out of the gypsy's face til it was ashen
Am
he seemed to be completely overcome by his own passion
G
i couldnt bare to think this was elaborate salesman patter
Am
but like i said i had no bread so it really didnt matter
G
the story clanged and banged around my head for the whole day
Am
in spite of all the other things i saw it wouldnt stray
C G Am
before i even knew it i found myself later on
C Em Am
rushing back to the gypsy but the guitar.... and he were gone
[Break]
Am G
ive learnt that what you dont buy today may not be there tomorrow
Am
and you are never strictly poor if youve a friend from which to borrow
G
i thought the old gypsy knew this before he ever saw me
Am
because when i went Sunday, he was waiting for me
C G Am
Ive one more thing to sing my friends, if i may be so bold,
C G Am
the guitar of which i sing, is the one which i now hold
Am G
and to think of love, and the fullness of, is something i get from it
Am
and this song i sing wont mean a thing unless its played upon it.
[Verse]
Am G
It was a sunday in east Berlin i chanced upon a market
Am
i though how love or lack thereof matched the coins in my pocket
G
but thats ok i have no pay im happy all the same
Am
to look through a box of broken clocks and old Atari games
C G Am
and racks of army uniforms of both the west and east
C G Am
and postcards sent to people who were long ago deceased
Am G
a plastic orange comb left over from the GDR
Am
and in a nook behind some books an old parlour guitar
Am G
it was sat upon a wooden packing crate that had been flipped
Am
and if the chance the cursory glance youd call it non descript
G
but i double took i stopped to look and its just one of those things
Am
i do when at a loss i reached across and lightly brushed the strings
C G Am
the sound both deep and ancient came up from the hole beneath
C G Am
the kind that comes from timber given in to times bequethed
C G Am
enough for me to wonder i put up my hand to hale
C Em Am
the vendor of the table just to ask... if its for sale
[Break]
Am G
well he had a chin with whiskers in and in between his lips
Am
he held a cigarette he hadnt lit i took him for a gypsy
G
he stooped and bent and complimented me on my selection
Am
to my surprise within his eyes i saw my own reflection
C G Am
i dont him im not buying im just interested to know
C G Am
so i thought how love or lack thereof matched my fiscal flow
C G Am
he asked me for my name and when he handed it to me
C Em Am
he said it undignified to talk of money... before history
[Break]
and then he said....
Am G
if you hold it right up to the light in pencil can be seen
Am
the signature of the luthier and the date 1918
G
but sir have you got the certificate of authenticity
Am
he said whats the point when you can get the story straight from me
Am G
a russian commander first saw it in a shop window in munich
Am
he was on a stroll and felt the roll of deutchmarks in his tunic
G
he bought it on a whim and to his friend the commisar
Am
said if i survive this war alive ill learn to play guitar
C G Am
he had one final 7 week assignment with his unit
G Am
and im sad to say he was blown away before he learned to tune it
[Break]
Am G
it was sent back to his greiving widow with the rest of his effects
Am
and it languished there under the stair right where the dust collects
G
but there came a day when she passed away as well and without kin
Am
so through her stash and it was labelled trash and put out with the bin
C G Am
it was only sitting on that lonely street in Leningrad
C G Am
for an hour or two before being rescued up by a young lad
G
he was on the hop afraid to stop for long for fear of prison
Am
a balchevik who had been made awefully sick by communism
C G Am
he was disenchanted by the practice of the party scheme
C G Am
how it proved all men are equal seemed to be a tad extreme
C G Am
he walked down by the baltic sea and there he hopped a freigter
C Em Am
and not a word was heard from him again... until many years later
[Break]
Am G
the old man stopped to rest and get his breath and his eyes they started glazing
Am
over i told him this story was both trajic and amazing
G
oh dont stop now i must know how this ends and please be quick
Am
do you know whht became of this mutanous balchevik?
[Break]
G
well the old gyspy looked back at me and his eyes they seemed to clear
Am
he said in 34 he went ashore in the city of Tangier
G
but he came undone as hed become from all those years at sea
Am
addicted to, as sailors do, port wine and gin rummy
C G Am
and one night in a game in a cafe near the medina
C G Am
as the hour grew ever late the balchies kitty it grew leaner
C G Am
and when his francs were gone he prayed upon the evening star
C Em Am
they took the coat that he was wearing, watch and ring....and that guitar
[Break]
Am G
it was won by a german banker who liked it all just fine
Am
who'd grown soft with drinking thinking of his frauline
G
while still abroad he'd learned some chords and in a few months later
Am
when hes again back in berlin hed sit and serenade her
C G Am
he was held back in Morocco by the start of World War II
C G Am
and he learnt she'd met a young cadet and the two of them shot through
Am G
he cursed and spat and vowed that as long as she still lingered
Am
he'd much rather than play guitar, cut off all his fingers
[Break]
Am G
well i felt sorry for this banker but it just didnt align
Am
if its 34 didnt the war begin in 39?
G
Pedant! he cried, would you deny me a single concession
Am
just let me tell you how this thing came into my possession.
G
i bought it from a local pedler, who bought it from a priest
Am
who drove his congregation mad with it to say the least
G
he'd picked it up for next to nothing browsing at a parish fete
Am
donated out of charity from a deceased estate
[Accel]
G
of a lovely music teacher who played it for her pupils
Am
who'd earlier procured it from a man with dubious scrupols
G
who'd pinched it from a folk rock busker somewhere in the town
Am
who'd been playing in Alexanderplatz the night the wall came down
G
he got it cheaply off a man who run a music store for cash
Am
who swapped it from a trader with a handlebar moustache
G
who found it in a paper where it had been advertised
Am
by the son of that German banker who's old girlfriend he despised
G
you'd think any normal person would have just gone out and sold it
Am
but he kept it as a token of the time he was cuckolded
G
he hid it in his attick and it survived the war up there
Am
for 30 years until his son went looking for a chair
G
his dad refused to talk of it until he turned up his toes
Am
but now its found its way to you just give me 400 Euros.
Am G
The blood drained right out of the gypsy's face til it was ashen
Am
he seemed to be completely overcome by his own passion
G
i couldnt bare to think this was elaborate salesman patter
Am
but like i said i had no bread so it really didnt matter
G
the story clanged and banged around my head for the whole day
Am
in spite of all the other things i saw it wouldnt stray
C G Am
before i even knew it i found myself later on
C Em Am
rushing back to the gypsy but the guitar.... and he were gone
[Break]
Am G
ive learnt that what you dont buy today may not be there tomorrow
Am
and you are never strictly poor if youve a friend from which to borrow
G
i thought the old gypsy knew this before he ever saw me
Am
because when i went Sunday, he was waiting for me
C G Am
Ive one more thing to sing my friends, if i may be so bold,
C G Am
the guitar of which i sing, is the one which i now hold
Am G
and to think of love, and the fullness of, is something i get from it
Am
and this song i sing wont mean a thing unless its played upon it.
Darryl Philbin
Darryl Purpose
Darryl Rahn
Darryl Shy
Darryl Worley
Daryll-Ann
Das Gezeichnete (...)
Das Ich
Das Kleine Arsch (...)
Das Lumpenpack