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  Jahr ? Schreibur trad.

 ZHenskij variant.
 "Rising  sun"  -  nazvanie  publichnogo  doma  vo  Francuzskom rajone Novogo
Orleana, geroinya - prostitutka, pytavshayasya ottuda bezhat'... Pesnya  narodnaya.
  
 From:  "CL: Gotfryd, Ilya" 
 "House of the rising SON"
 Dom  ni  kakogo  otnasheniya  k  solncu ne imeet. Vo vremena kogda francuzi
vldeli territoriej Luisiany otci brali svoix sinovey v vozraste ot 13 do  15
let  I  veli  ih v etot bardel takim obrazom delaya iz nix muzchin. Iz 
chego sleduet, chto nazvanie etogo doma "Vyrastayushchij (vosstayushchij) syn"

      Am     C    D     F
      Am     C    E7
      Am     C    D     F
      Am     E    Am    E7

There is a house in New Orleans, they call the "Rising Sun",
it's been the ruin of many a poor girl,
and me, oh lord, I'm one.

My mother is a tailor, she sews those new blue jeans,
my husbend he's a gambling man,
drinks down in New Orleans.

My husbend in a gambler, he goes from town to town,
the only time, he's satisfied, is when
he drinks his liquor down.

Go tell my baby sister, never do what I have done,
shun that house in New Orleans
they call the "Rising Sun".

One foot on the platform, the other's on the train,
I'm going back to New Orleans,
to wear that ball and chain.

Going back to New Orleans, my race is almost run,
I'm going to sped the rest of my life,
beneath that "Rising Sun".

    The House Of the Rising Sun. By Animals:

There is a house in New Orleans, they call it Rising Sun. And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one. My mother was a tailores sewed my new blue jeans my father was a gamblin' man down in New Orleans. Now the only thing a gambler needs is a suitcase and a trunk. And the only time he'll be satisfied is when he's down and drunk. Oh mother tell your children not to do what I have done spend your lives in sin and misery in the House of the Rising sun. Well I've got one foot on the platform the other foot on the train. I'm going back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain. There is a house in New Orleans, they call it Rising Sun. And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, and God, I know I'm one. Transcribed by Roman Szendrey

    I eshche odin variant...

Am C D F There is a house in New Orleans, Am C E7 They call the "Rising Sun", Am C D F It's been the ruin of many a poor girl, (boys?) Am E Am E7 And God, I know, I'm one. My mother was a tailor, She sewed those new blue jeans, my husbend he's a gambling man, (drinks) down in New Orleans. My husbend in a gambler, He goes from town to town, The only time, he's satisfied, is when He drinks his liquor down. Oh, mother, tell your children Not to do what I have done - Spend your lives in sin and misery In the House of Rising Sun One foot on the platform, The other's on the train, I'm going back to New Orleans, to wear that ball and chain. Going back to New Orleans, My race is almost run, I'm going to spend the rest of my life, Beneath that "Rising Sun".

    Dom voshodyashchego solnca

Hodit po svetu legenda o tom CHto gde-to sred' gornyh vysot Stoit, stoit prekrasnejshij dom U kotorogo solnce vstaet I esli by ya poverit' ne smog Prozhil by vsyu zhizn' bez hlopot No ya poshel iskat' etot dom U kotorogo solnce vstaet YA shel cherez gory, pokrytye l'dom YA shel i nedelyu, i god No ya ne nashel, ne nashel etot dom, U kotorogo solnce vstaet Hodit po svetu legenda o tom, CHto gde-to sred' gornyh vysot Stoit, stoit prekrasnejshij dom U kotorogo solnce vstaet Ishchite, ishchite, lyudi, tot dom U kotorogo solnce vstaet

    Dom voshodyashchego solnca

Hodit po svetu legenda o tom, CHto sredi sedovlasyh vysot Stoit, stoit chudesnyj dom, Za kotorym solnce vstaet. Mne govorila mama o nem, O dome chudesnom o tom, CHto otec ushel iskat' tot dom, No tak ego i ne nashel. Bud' proklyat tot dom, opalennyj sud'boj, Bud' proklyata ta zemlya. Ostalis' na svete lish' my vdvoem, Ostalis' lish' ty da ya. Hodit po svetu legenda o tom, chto sredi sedovlasyh vysot Stoit, stoit chudesnyj dom, Za kotorym solnce vstaet.

    Don't let me be misunderstood

from 1965 'Animal Tracks' Baby, do you understand me now, Sometimes I feel a little mad. But, don't you know that no one alive can always be an angel. When things go wrong I feel real bad. I'm just a soul whose intentions are good, Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. Baby, sometimes I'm so carefree, With a joy that's hard to hide. And sometimes it seems that, all I have to do is worry And then you're bound to see my other side. I'm just a soul whose intentions are good, Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. If I seem edgy, I want you to know, That I never mean to take it out on you. Life has its problems, And I get my share, And that's one thing I never mean to do, 'Cause I love you, Oh, Oh, oh, oh, baby - don't you know I'm human. I have thoughts like any other one. Sometimes I find myself, Lord, regretting, Some foolish thing - some little simple thing I've done. I'm just a soul whose intentions are good, Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood. (repeat) (repeat)

Last-modified: Mon, 22 Jul 2002 09:06:52 GMT
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