Harry Belafonte - The Many Moods Of Belafonte/ Ballads, Blues & Boasters (2004) by Harry Belafonte (보컬) on maniadb.com

Many times I've been told by the wise and the old
Something good I'm supposed to remember
If my first love I'll found in, in the warm of July
It'll cool in the, in the nip of September

Now they point to the skies
To the old and wise
And they speak of a chill in the air
But I don't care

Oh, still I love my summertime love
Still I love the kissing and the codding
Still I love my summertime love
With a heart still summertime true

Still I love my summertime love
Still I want her walking close beside me
Still I love my summertime love
Let the seasons change as they do

Oh, still I love my summertime love
Still I love the kissing and the codding
Still I love my summertime love
With a heart still summertime true

Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh
so mellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a tender and callow fellow.
Try to remember and if you remember
then follow
follow.

Try to remember when life was so tender
When noone wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
When dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
When love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember and if you remember
then follow
follow.

Deep in December it's nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December it's nice to remember
Without a hurt the heart will hollow.
Deep in December
it's nice to remember
The fire of September that made you mellow.
Deep in December our hearts should remember and follow
follow.

It's as dark as a dungeon way down in the mine

I never will forget one time when I was on a little visit down home in Ebenezer, Kentucky.
I was a-talkin' to an old man that had known me ever since the day I was born, and an old friend
of the family. He says, "Son, you don't know how lucky you are to have a nice job like you've got
and don't have to dig out a livin' from under these old hills and hollers like me and your pappy
used to." When I asked him why he never had left and tried some other kind of work, he says,
"Nawsir, you just won't do that. If ever you get this old coal dust in your blood, you're just
gonna be a plain old coal miner as long as you live." He went on to say, "It's a habit
sorta like chewin' tobaccer."

Come and listen you fellows, so young and so fine,
And seek not your fortune in the dark, dreary mines.
It will form as a habit and seep in your soul,
'Till the stream of your blood is as black as the coal.

It's dark as a dungeon and damp as the dew,
Where danger is double and pleasures are few,
Where the rain never falls and the sun never shines
It's dark as a dungeon way down in the mine.
It's a-many a man I have seen in my day,
Who lived just to labor his whole life away.
Like a fiend with his dope and a drunkard his wine,
A man will have lust for the lure of the mines.

I hope when I'm gone and the ages shall roll,
My body will blacken and turn into coal.
Then I'll look from the door of my heavenly home,
And pity the miner a-diggin' my bones.

Four strong winds that blow lonely
Seven seas that run high
All those things that don't change come what may
But our good times are all gone
And I'm bound for moving on
I look for you if I'm ever back this way

Think Ill go out to Alberta
Weathers good there in the fall
Got some friends I can go to working for
Still I wish you change your mind
If I asked you one more time
But we've been through that a hundred times or more

If I get there before the snow flies
And if things are going good
You could meet me if I send you down the fare
But by then it would be winter
ain't too much for you to do
And those winds sure can blow cold way out there