Here's a wee tune that I wrote while I was in Ireland. So it's got a jig feel to it. And this one is called the Working Man.
If I could write a love song, I'd sing it for you Of the many ways I love you, and rhyme it with blue Make me a merry air, the rhythm of your hit Sweeten it with simple sounds, read it from my lip Ah, but love, I'm only a working man
If I could paint a picture, your portrait I'd do Of the many tints and colors of delicate hue The hazel in your eye, the copper in your hair The secret shades and shadows of your body lying there Ah, but love, I'm only a working man
If I could write a story our tale I would tell Of the many first embraces up till our wedding bell The secrets and the sighs, the laughter and the tears But now I come to think of it, that would take me years and years My love, I'm only a working man
As it is my love, I can only show The happiness you brought to me many dreams ago Meaning to my work, a purpose to my life I'm content to be your man, you to be my wife That's why I am a happy working man That's why I am a happy working man
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