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Bing Crosby
Bing Crosby


Информация
Дата рождения 3 мая 1903 г.
Место рождения Tacoma, Washington, U.S.
Откуда Spokane, Washington, U.S.
Жанры Traditional pop
Jazz
Vocal
Годы 1926—1977
Лейблы RCA Records
Decca Music Group
Reprise Records
Verve Records
United Artists Records
См. также Frank Sinatra
David Bowie
Bob Hope
Dixie Lee
Dean Martin
Fred Astaire
The Rhythm Boys
Rosemary Clooney
Louis Armstrong
Сайт Website



Альбом Bing Crosby



1995
1.
2.
Home On The Range
3.
4.
Take Me Back To My Boots And Saddle
5.
Silver On The Stage
6.
When The Bloom Is On The Sage
7.
Tumbling Tumbleweeds
8.
After Sundown
9.
El Rancho Grande (My Ranch)
10.
The Singing Hills
11.
Along The Santa Fe Trail
12.
Clementine
13.
San Antonio Rose
14.
Deep In The Heart Of Texas
15.
Who Calls?
16.
17.
Ridin' Down The Canyon
18.
19.
20.
A Roundup Lullaby
21.
The Old Oaken Bucket
22.
We'll Rest At The End Of The Trail
23.
Twilight On The Trail
24.
Goodbye, Little Darlin', Goodbye
25.
The Last Roundup
. . .


Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above
Don't fence me in
Let me ride through the wide open country that I love
Don't fence me in

Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever, but I ask you please
Don't fence me in

Just turn me loose
Let me straddle my old saddle
Underneath the Western skies

On my Cayuse
Let me wander over yonder
Till I see the mountains rise

I want to ride to the ridge where the West commences
And gaze at the moon till I lose my senses
And I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences
Don't fence me in

Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above
Don't fence me in
Let me ride through the wide country that I love
Don't fence me in

Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze
And listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees
Send me off forever but I ask you please
Don't fence me in!

Just turn me loose
Let me straddle my old saddle
Underneath the Western skies
Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo

On my Cayuse
Let me wander over yonder
Till I see the mountains rise
Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba

I want to ride to the ridge where the West commences
And gaze at the moon 'til I lose my senses
I can't look at hobbles and I can't stand fences
Don't fence me in

No, Papa, don't you fence me in

. . .

Home On The Range

[Нет текста]

. . .


I'm an old cowhand from the Rio Grande
But my legs ain't bowed and my cheeks ain't tan
I'm a cowboy who never saw a cow
Never roped a steer cause I don't know how
Sure ain't a fixin to start in now
Yippie yi yo kayah

I'm an old cowhand and I come down from the Rio Grande
And I learned to ride, ride, ride 'fore I learned to stand
I'm a riding fool who is up to date
I know every trail in the Lone Star State
Cause I ride the range in a Ford V-8
Yippie yi yo kayah

We're old cowhands from the Rio Grande
And we come to town just to hear the band
We know all the songs that the cowboys know
'Bbout the big corral where the doggies go
We learned them all on the radio
Yippie yi yo kayah


I'm an old cowhand
Oh yes, Mr. Bing.
Too hot for you, Uncle Fudd?
Down from the Rio Grande
Oh where the west is wild all around the borderland
Where the buffalo roam around the zoo
and the Injuns run up a rug or two
and the old Bar X is just a barbecue, yeah
Yippie yi yo kayah

I'm a pioneer who began from scratch
I don't bat an eye in a shootin' match.
They don't call me Elmer, they call me Satch.
Yippie yi yo kayah
Yippie yi yo kayah

Get along little horsy
Get along little horsy
Yippie yi yo kayah, oh!

. . .

Take Me Back To My Boots And Saddle

[Нет текста]

. . .

Silver On The Stage

[Нет текста]

. . .

When The Bloom Is On The Sage

[Нет текста]

. . .

Tumbling Tumbleweeds

[Нет текста]

. . .

After Sundown

[Нет текста]

. . .

El Rancho Grande (My Ranch)

[Нет текста]

. . .

The Singing Hills

[Нет текста]

. . .

Along The Santa Fe Trail

[Нет текста]

. . .

Clementine

[Нет текста]

. . .

San Antonio Rose

[Нет текста]

. . .

Deep In The Heart Of Texas

[Нет текста]

. . .

Who Calls?

[Нет текста]

. . .



Lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down

Oh, drinking beer in a cabaret
Was I having fun
Until one night she caught me right
And now I'm on the run

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down

Oh, I'll sing you every night Bing
And I'll woo you every day
I'll be your regular mama
And I'll put that gun away

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that thing down before it goes off and hurts somebody

Oh, she kicked out my windshield
And she hit me over the head
She cussed and cried and said I lied
And she wished that I was dead

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down

We're 3 tough gals
From deep down Texas way
We got no pals
They don't like the way we play
We're a rough rooting tooting shooting trio
But you ought to see my sister Cleo
She's a terror make no error
But there ain't no nicer terror
Here's what we tell her

Lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down

Pappy made a batch of corn
The revenuers came
The draught was slow
So now they know
You can't do that to Mame

Lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down

Oh, singing songs in a cabaret
Was I having fun
Until one night it didn't seem right
And now I'm on the run

Oh, lay that pistol down, Babe
Lay that pistol down
Pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down

Oh, pistol packing mama
Lay that pistol down


. . .

Ridin' Down The Canyon

[Нет текста]

. . .


Oh! I'm packing my grip
And I'm leav-in' to-day,
'Cause I'm takin' a trip
Cal-i-for-nia way
I'm gon-na set-tle down and nev-er more roam
And make the SAN FER-NAN-DO VAL0LEY my home.

I'll for-get my sins,
I'll be mak-in' new friends,
Where the West be-gins
And the sun-set ends,
'Cause I've de-cid-ed where "yours tru-ly" should be
And it's the SAN FER-NAN-DO VAL-LEY for me

I think that I'm safe in stat-in'
{She - He} will be wait-in'
When my lone-ly jour-ney is done-
And kind-ly old Rev-'rend Thomas
Made us a pro-mise
He will make the two of us one.

So, I'm hit-tin' the trail
To the cow coun-try.
You can for-ward my mail
Care of R.F.D.
I'm gon-na set-tle down and nev-er more roam
And make the SAN FER-NAN-DO VAL-LEY my home

. . .


VERSE 1: There's something strange in the old corral
There's a breeze, though the wind has died
Though I'm alone in the old corral,
Seems there is someone at my side

CHORUS: Empty saddles in the old corral,
Where do ya ride tonight?
Are ya roundin' up the dogies,
The strays of long ago,
Are ya on the trail of buffalo?
Empty saddles in the old corral,
Where do ya ride tonight?
Are there rustlers on the border,
Or a band of Navajo
Are ya headin' for the Alamo?
Empty guns covered with rust
Where do ya talk tonight?
Empty boots covered with dust
Where do ya walk tonight?
Empty saddles in the old corral,
My tears would be dried tonight
If you'll only say I'm lonely,
As ya carry my old pal
Empty saddles in the old corral

VERSE 2: There is no smoke, still the fires burn,
There's no song, still I hear guitars,
There is no dust, still the ghosts return
Softly to vanish thru the bars

. . .

A Roundup Lullaby

[Нет текста]

. . .

The Old Oaken Bucket

[Нет текста]

. . .

We'll Rest At The End Of The Trail

[Нет текста]

. . .

Twilight On The Trail

[Нет текста]

. . .

Goodbye, Little Darlin', Goodbye

[Нет текста]

. . .

The Last Roundup

[Нет текста]

. . .


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