Here's what we have in the DT:
WINTER AND I
(Carol Denney)
You're no New Yorker, but you sound just as strange to me
You think these shoes are a bargain -- you're wrong
They'll take you the circuit of this motor-through island
And fade like the summer as soon as you're gone
Of course I've been drinking; I do it all summer
It starts every morning, be it whisky or wine
Give directions to tourists and sell them these sandals
And curse the mosquitos and drink myself blind
Winter and I get what's left of the island
When the tourists are gone and the snow flies
Winter and I get along on the island
She's a fine one to talk to; she never replies
They drive round the island like they're changing the channels
And buy themselves sandals and then drive away
They could buy them in Boston, but, hell, I don't mind it
The summer-folk keep me in cordwood 'til May
Summer out here has a dangerous magic
The tourists are careful -- I guess I know why
They can take it in pictures from cars and on weekends
But they can't take it straight, I guess -- neither can I
Winter and I...
I'm sober all winter. I do like my whisky
But alone on the island I don't drink at all
I'll be drunk when the spring sets its foot on the island
And sober as stone just as soon as it's fall
When it's sunny there won't be a sound on the island
Except for snow melting and sounds of the bay
I'll set up my rocker in the middle of Main Street
And smoke like a chimney and practice all day
copyright Carol Denney
filename[ WINTERI
JN
oct96
| Here are the lyrics Carol sent:
Winter and I
(by Carol Denney)
you're no New Yorker but you sound just as strange to me
if you think these shoes are a bargain you're wrong
they'll take you the circuit of this motor-through island
and fade like the summer by the time you are gone
of course I've been drinking I do it all summer
it starts every morning either whiskey or wine
give directions to tourists and sell them these sandals
and curse the mosquitoes and drink myself blind
(chorus)
winter and I get what's left of the island
when the tourists go home and the snow flies
winter and I get along on the island
she's a good one to talk to she never replies
they drive round the island like they're changing the channels
and buy themselves sandals and then drive away
they could buy them in Boston but hell I don't mind it
the summer folk keep me in cord wood til May
summer out here has a dangerous magic
tourists are careful I guess I know why
they can take it in pictures from cars and on weekends
but they can't take it straight I guess neither can I
(chorus)
I'm sober all winter I do like my whiskey
but alone here in winter I won't drink at all
I'll be drunk when the spring sets its foot on the island
and sober as stone just as soon as it's fall
when it's sunny there won't be a sound on the island
except for snow melting and sounds of the bay
I set up my rocker in the middle of main street
and smoke like a chimney and practice all day
(chorus)
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