I met a singer on the hill, He wore a tattered cloak; His cap was torn, His shoes were worn, And dreamily he spoke. Fa la la la la la ... Fa la la la la la. A wrinkled face, a cheery smile, And a nobby stick had he; His eyes were grey and far away And changeful as the sea. I offered him a piece of gold And hoped that he would stay. No word he spoke, but shook his head And smiled and went his way. Fa la la la la la ... La la la la la la. I watched the singer down the hill. My eyes went following after, I thought I heard a fairy flute And the sound of fairy laughter, Fa la la la la la... etc.
- by Michael (Dewar) Head (1900 - 1976), "The singer", 1938, published 1939 [voice, unaccompanied], from Five Songs, no. 4. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:51
Line count: 22
Word count: 133