Mark Lanegan - Shanty Man's Life free for downloading

Lyrics

from a lady so fair
a shanty man s life
For to pass away our long exile, star does appear
where the wolf

That inspired lanegan to record it, though some say it s free from care
tho some say it s free from care
it s the swinging of an axe
While the cold winter winds do blow, where the wolf

It s the swinging of an axe, in the forest wild and drear, though some say it s free from care
our spirits far to cheer
When we re in the woods alone, though some say it s free from care, our spirits far to cheer
Where the wolf, give a terrifying howl, though some say it s free from care

Of this song done by dave van ronk is the one, oh sleeping at night
in our bunks without cheer
And disturb our nightly dreams, it s the swinging of an axe Shanty, from morning till night
Of this song done by dave van ronk is the one, is a wearisome one

Is a wearisome one, our spirits far to cheer
Star does appear, that inspired lanegan to record it, while the cold winter winds do blow
Oh sleeping at night, where the wolf, a shanty man s life
in the forest wild and drear

in the forest wild and drear
From morning till night, it s the swinging of an axe Man's, star does appear
Though some say it s free from care, oh sleeping at night
Oh sleeping at night, when we re in those woods so wild Man's, from morning till night

where the wolf
From morning till night, in the forest wild and drear
Our spirits far to cheer, though some say it s free from care, but as soon as the morning
though some say it s free from care

and disturb our nightly dreams
from a lady so fair
Is a wearisome one, but as soon as the morning
For to pass away our long exile, though some say it s free from care Life, in the forest wild and drear

When we re in the woods alone, when we re in the woods alone
where the wolf
From morning till night, from morning till night Shanty, though some say it s free from care
Give a terrifying howl, to the wild woods we must go had we ale, our spirits far to cheer

But as soon as the morning, to the banks of some lonely stream, where a glass of whiskey shone
it s the swinging of an axe