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Chris De Burgh
Chris De Burgh


Background information
Birth name Christopher John Davison
Born October 15, 1948
Origin Venado Tuerto, Santa Fe Province, Argentina
Genre(s) Soft Rock
Pop Rock
Years active 1974—present
Label(s) A&M Records
Edel Music
Website Website



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Chris De Burgh Album


Footsteps (12/02/2008)
12/02/2008
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. . .


Voices......
Voices......
Faces...
Places......

They're here again,
They're here again

. . .


To everything turn turn turn
There is a season turn turn turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven;
A time to be born a time to die
A time to plant a time to reap
A time to kill a time to heal
A time to laugh a time to weep;

To everything turn turn turn
There is a season turn turn turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven;
A time to build up a time to break down
A time to dance a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together;

To everything turn turn turn
There is a season turn turn turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven;
A time of love a time of hate
A time of war a time of peace
A time that you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing;

To everything turn turn turn
There is a season turn turn turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven;
A time to gain a time to lose
A time to rend a time to sow
A time for love a time for hate
A time for peace I swear itґs not too late;

It's not too late; turn turn turn; it's not too late.
It's not too late; turn turn turn; it's not too late.

. . .


(The Beatles cover)

The long and winding road that leads to your door,
Will never disappear,
I've seen that road before; It always leads me here,
Lead me to your door;

The wild and windy night that the rain washed away,
Has left a pool of tears crying for the day,
Why leave me standing here, let me know the way;

Many times I've been alone and many times I've cried,
Anyway you'll never know the many ways I've tried,
But still they lead me back to the long winding road,
You left me standing here a long, long time ago,
Don't leave me waiting here, lead me to your door;

But still they lead me back to the long winding road,
You left me standing here a long, long time ago,
Don't keep me waiting here, lead me to your door,
Yeah yeah yeah yeah.

. . .


(Toto cover)

I hear the drums echoing tonight,
But she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation,
She's coming in twelve-thirty flight,
Her moonlit wings reflect the stars
That guide me towards salvation,
I stopped an old man along the way,
Hoping to find some long forgotten words or ancient memories,
He turned to me as if to say, "Hurry boy, it's waiting there for you",

Gonna to take a lot to drag me away from you,
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do,
I’ll bless the rains down in Africa,
Going to take some time to do the things we never had;

Wild dogs cry out in the night,
As they grow restless longing for some solitary company,
I know that I must do what's right,
Sure as Kilimanjaro rises like Olympus above the Serengeti,
I seek to cure what's deep inside,
Frightened of this thing that I've become,

Gonna to take a lot to drag me away from you,
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do,
I’ll bless the rains down in Africa,
Going to take some time to do the things we never had;

Hurry boy, she's waiting there for you,

Gonna take a lot to drag me away from you,
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do,
I”ll bless the rains down in Africa,
I’ll bless the rains down in Africa,
I’ll bless the rains down in Africa,
I’ll bless the rains down in Africa,
I’ll bless the rains down in Africa,
Going take some time to do the things we never had....

. . .


No I can't forget this evening or your face as you were leaving,
But I guess that's just the way the story goes;
You always smile, but in your eyes,
Your sorrow shows,
Yes, it shows.

No, I can't forget tomorrow,
When I think of all my sorrow,
Well I had you there and then I let you go;
And now it's only fair that I should let you know,
What you should know.

I can't live,
If living is without you,
I can't live,
I can't give anymore,
I can't live,
If living is without you,
I can't live,
I can't give anymore.

No, I can't forget this evening or your face as you were leaving,
But I guess that's just the way the story goes;
You always smile, but in your eyes,
Your sorrow shows,
Yes, it shows;

I can't live,
If living is without you,
I can't live,
I can't give anymore,
I can't live,
If living is without you,
I can't live,
I can't give anymore.

. . .


(Pete Seeger cover)

Where have all the flowers gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the flowers gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the flowers gone,
Picked by young girls every one,
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young girls gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the young girls gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the young girls gone,
Gone to young men every one,
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the young men gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the young men gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the young men gone,
Gone to soldiers every one,
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the soldiers gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the soldiers gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the soldiers gone,
They've gone to graveyards every one,
When will they ever learn?
When will they ever learn?

Where have all the graveyards gone,
Long time passing,
Where have all the graveyards gone,
Long time ago,
Where have all the graveyards gone,
Gone to flowers every one,
When will we ever learn?
When will we ever learn?

. . .


Though we've gotta say goodbye for the summer,
Darling I promise you this,
I'll send you all my love,
Everyday in a letter sealed with a kiss;

Yes it's gonna be a cold lonely summer,
But I'll fill the emptiness,
I'll send you all my dreams,
Everyday in a letter sealed with a kiss;

I'll see you in the sunlight,
I'll hear your voice everywhere,
I'll run to tenderly hold you,
But darling, you won't be there;

I don't want to say goodbye for the summer,
Knowing the love we'll miss,
Oh let us make a pledge,
To meet in September and seal it with a kiss;

Yes it's gonna be a cold lonely summer,
But I'll fill the emptiness,
I'll send you all my dreams,
Everyday in a letter sealed with a kiss,

Sealed with a kiss, sealed with a kiss.

. . .


(The Beatles cover)

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly,
All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise;

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see,
All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to be free;

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly,
Into the line of the dark black night;

Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly,
Into the line of the dark black night;

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly,
All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

. . .


(The Beatles cover)

Try to see it my way,
Do I have to keep on talking till I can't go on?
While you see it your way,
Run the risk of knowing that our love may soon be gone,
We can work it out,
We can work it out;

Think of what you're saying,
You can get it wrong and still you think that it's alright,
Think of what I'm saying,
We can work it out and get it straight, or say good-night,
We can work it out,
We can work it out;

Life is very short, and there's no time,
For fussing and fighting, my friend,
I have always thought that it's a crime,
So I will ask you once again;

Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong,
While you see it your way,
There's a chance that we might fall apart before too long,
We can work it out,
We can work it out;

Life is very short, and there's no time,
For fussing and fighting, my friend,
I have always thought that it's a crime,
So I will ask you once again;

Try to see it my way,
Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong,
While you see it your way,
There's a chance that we may fall apart before too long,
We can work it out,
We can work it out.

. . .


(Bob Dylan cover)

"There must be some way out of here,"
Said the joker to the thief,
"There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief,
Businessmen, they drink my wine, ploughmen dig my earth,
None of them along the line know what any of it is worth;"

"No reason to get excited," the thief, he kindly spoke,
"There are many here among us now,
Who feel that life is but a joke,
But you and I, we've been through that, and this is not our fate,
So let us not talk falsely now, the hour is getting late;"

All along the Watchtower, Princes kept the view,
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants too,
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl;

"There must be some way out of here,"
"There must be some way out of here..."

. . .


Corrina, Corrina,
Where’ve you been so long?
Corrina, Corrina,
Where’ve you been so long?
I’m in love with you baby,
Baby, please come home;

I’ve got a bird who whistles,
I’ve got a bird who sings,
I’ve got a bird who whistles,
I’ve got a bird who sings,
But I ain't got Corrina,
And life don't mean a thing;

Corrina, Corrina,
You've been on my mind,
Corrina, Corrina,
You've been on my mind,
I keep thinkin' 'bout you, baby,
And I can't keep from crying;

Corrina, Corrina,
Where’ve you been so long?
Corrina, Corrina,
Where’ve you been so long?
I've been worryin' 'bout you baby,
Baby, please come home;

I've been worryin' 'bout you baby,
Baby, please come home.

. . .


I will tell of a hunter whose life was undone,
By the cruel hand of evil at the setting of the sun,
His arrow was loosed and it flew through the dark,
And his true love was slain as the shaft found its mark;

She'd her apron wrapped about her,
And he took her for a swan,
And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;

He ran up beside her and found that it was she,
He turned away his face for he could not bear to see,
He lifted her up and he found she was dead,
A fountain of tears for his true love he shed;

She'd her apron wrapped about her,
And he took her for a swan,
And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;

He carried her off to his home by the sea,
Crying' "Father, oh Father, I've murdered poor Polly!
I've killed my fair love in the flower of her life,
I'd always intended that she be my wife;"

"But she'd her apron wrapped about her
And I took her for a swan,
And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;"

He roamed near the place where his true love was slain,
And wept bitter tears, but his cries were all in vain,
As he looked on the lake, a swan glided by,
And the sun slowly set in the grey of the sky;

"But she'd her apron wrapped about her
And I took her for a swan,
And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von;"

"She'd her apron wrapped about her
And I took her for a swan,
And it's oh and alas it was she, Polly Von."

. . .


(Don McLean cover)

Long long time ago, I can still remember,
How that music used to make me smile;
And I knew if I had my chance,
That I could make those people dance,
And maybe they'd be happy for a while;

But February made me shiver,
With every paper I'd deliver,
Bad news on the doorstep,
I couldn't walk one more step;

I can't remember if I cried,
When I read about his widowed bride,
But something touched me deep inside,
The day the music died;

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry,
Them good ol’ boys were drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die;

Did you write the Book of Love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the Bible tells you so,
Do you believe in rock 'n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

And I know that you're in love with him,
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym,
You both kicked off your shoes,
And I dig those rhythm and blues,

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck,
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day the music died; I started singing...

Bye-bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry,
Them good ol’ boys were drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die;

Now for ten years we've been on our own,
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone,
But that's not how it used to be,
When the jester sang for the King and Queen,
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean,
And a voice that came from you and me;

Ah but while the King was looking down,
The jester stole his thorny crown,
The courtroom was adjourned,
No verdict was returned,
And Lenin read from the book of Marx,
A Quartet practiced in the park,
And we sang dirges in the dark,
The day the music died; We were singing...

Bye-bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry,
Them good ol’ boys were drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die;

Bye-bye, Miss American Pie,
Drove my Chevy to the levee,
But the levee was dry,
Them good ol’ boys were drinking whiskey and rye,
Singing this will be the day that I die,
This will be the day that I die.

. . .


It's a lesson too late for the learning,
Made of sand, made of sand,
In the wink of an eye my soul is turning,
In your hand, in your hand;

Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind?
I could have loved you better,
I didn't mean to be unkind,
You know that was the last thing on my mind;

You've got reasons a-plenty for going,
This I know, this I know,
And the weeks have been steadily growing,
Please don't go, please don't go;

Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind?
I could have loved you better,
I didn't mean to be unkind,
You know that was the last thing on my mind;

As we walk on, my thoughts are a-tumbling,
Round and round, round and round,
Underneath our feet the subway's rumbling,
Underground, underground;

Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind?
I could have loved you better,
I didn't mean to be unkind,
You know that was the last thing on my mind;

Are you going away with no word of farewell,
Will there be not a trace left behind?
I could have loved you better,
I didn't mean to be unkind,
You know that was the last thing on my mind.

. . .


And from that moment,
I dreamed I could fly,
And from that mountain I reached for the sky;

Through tears and good times, I found my way;
Those years are calling me again;

Then I hear footsteps echoing along the winding road,
I can hear voices singing all the songs I have known,
And I see faces,
All the ones I've loved along the way,
People and places,
They're here again, they're here again...

Voices......
Voices......
Faces...
Places......

And I hear voices.........

. . .


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