I'll sing you a song of the Cloisters if you hark. I'll sing of the Cloisters in Fort Tryon Park. Where I used to go in the month of June To listen to the fiddle of an ancient tune At a concert given in the afternoon By the Pro Musica Antiqua The Pro Musica, the Pro Musica, the Pro Musica Antiqua.
A precisely such an occasion I recall I spied a young man, neath an oak tree, straight and tall. As we sat there together, and we spoke no word But within our hearts something stirred As we listened there to Ockeghem, Tallis, Purcell and Byrd At the Pro Musica Antiqua. The Pro Musica, the Pro Musica, the Pro Musica Antiqua.
He invited me to his flat For a cup of tea and a chat. For he said he had a batch of recordings to play Of Dufay and Dupres, so what could I say, but "Yes"!
What a fool I was to go. What an idiot from tippy-top to toe. For behind his face and charming smile Lay a motive base and a manner vile. What a fool I was to go! But how could I nonny nonny nonny know?
Well he took me up to his flat as he had said And he locked the door and he sat on his great double bed As he looked at me with eyes that lied I knew when I saw that look in his eye That he had no recordings of Dupres and Dufay But the Pro Musica Antiqua. The Pro Musica, the Pro Musica, the Pro Musica Antiqua.. . Well there I stood. I was rooted in my place. As I viewed with dread my deceitful lover's face. And I knew from the lovesick look in his eye, He could lay me low with a single sigh Well he laid me low...and he laid me high At the Pro Musica Antiqua. The Pro Musica, Pro Musica, the Pro Musica Antiqua.
Now if you go to concerts on the grass And you're overfond of Gabrielli brass Or a gay Bonsel, Beware! Beware! Of what may come to pass. Of what may come to pass.
Now the sound of a consort of viols makes me ill, And the lute and the zither make me sicker still. And every morning at the crowing of the cocks I wash my face and I comb my locks And I say my prayers and I put a pox On the Pro Musica Antiqua. The Pro Musica, the Pro Musica, the Pro Musica Antiqua.
Now maidens take fair warning from my tale. Beware! Beware of the music-loving male. You may go to the Cloisters if you choose And find enchantment in the muse But I hate to tell you what you might lose At the Pro Musica Antiqua. The Pro Musica, the Pro Musica, the Pro Musica Antiqua.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
