Saturday night in the quiet of the shanty
The young men are in the village drinking
I am asked every week to come with them
But I won't go on sprees anymore.
Chorus:
The winds will tear me, the cold torment me
My back will be broken from morning till night
And the tree-cover above protecting me
From the memory of a woman I'll never see again.
It's rarely that I go out with the boys
But when they return there's a bottle or two
To coax a weary old man to tell
Stories of my youth.
There was a time when I was as hearty as you all
A young rogue, playful and jolly
And young girls would dance and drink with me
Till I met the beautiful redhaired woman.
I told her I loved her with verses and roses
And she told me that she loved me the same
But alas, phantoms came between us
And left me a phantom myself.
And now as a phantom I wander the world
A shadow, a shade, a dark wing
Without hope or fear, past or future
Without her till I go to my grave.
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