We all meet up at the Garway Moon,
Coming down from the hills, we'll be there soon.
Meet in the bar, start telling tales,
Eating good food and drinking ale.
We'll be there, we'll be there.
We'll be there, we'll be there.
There was a crooked man playing at the village hall,
Singing their songs, like a maiden call,
The metre runs out, the electric dies,
Searching for coins, by torchlight.
We'll be there, we'll be there,
We'll be there, we'll be there.
There's a sculpture up on White Rocks,
He's making magic out of clay.
Children running on Garway Hill top,
Chasing all the sheep away.
There's a man in the village plays saxaphone,
Serenades his wife when they're all alone,
A shepherds hut down in Hollow Ash,
Selling apple juice, just for cash.
We'll be there, we'll be there,
We'll be there, we'll be there
Adam's out hunting got rabbits in his bag,
Keeps his gun wrapped up in a rag.
Farmers in the field all cursing their luck,
But they all come home, in a pick up truck.
There's a medieval church there,
Where the Templars came to rest
Drink deeply from the well there,
Cool water has been blessed.
We run Jack's dash, get our name on the black,
Four miles up, and four miles back.
The witches come down when the night is through,
We'll all dance naked in the morning dew.
We'll be there, we'll be there,
We'll be there, we'll be there.
We all meet up at the Garway Moon,
Coming down from the hills,
We'll be there soon.
Meet up in the bar start telling tales,
Eating good food, and drinking ale.

SOUMETTRE LES CORRECTIONS