Текст песни First Recollection - Cowboy Junkies
                                                My 
                                                first 
                                                recollection 
                                                is 
                                                    a 
                                                day 
                                                in 
                                                December
 
                                    
                                
                                                Black 
                                                iron 
                                                steam 
                                                engine 
                                                covered 
                                                in 
                                                ice
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                some 
                                                Precambrian 
                                                monster
 
                                    
                                
                                                Moaning 
                                                and 
                                                snorting
 
                                    
                                
                                                Nothing 
                                                was 
                                                ever 
                                                going 
                                                to 
                                                beat 
                                                that 
                                                beast
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                    a 
                                                fair 
                                                fight
 
                                    
                                
                                                I′ve 
                                                sat 
                                                and 
                                                watched 
                                                the 
                                                woodpiles
 
                                    
                                
                                                Grow 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                summer
 
                                    
                                
                                                Now 
                                                I'm 
                                                sitting, 
                                                smelling 
                                                summer 
                                                burn 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                fall
 
                                    
                                
                                                Winter′s 
                                                coming 
                                                on, 
                                                days 
                                                getting 
                                                dreary
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                I'm 
                                                thinking 
                                                this 
                                                is 
                                                the 
                                                season
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                    I 
                                                leave 
                                                you 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                I've 
                                                heard 
                                                    a 
                                                man 
                                                in 
                                                crisis
 
                                    
                                
                                                Falls 
                                                back 
                                                on 
                                                what 
                                                he 
                                                knows 
                                                best,
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                murderer 
                                                to 
                                                murder
 
                                    
                                
                                                    A 
                                                thief 
                                                to 
                                                theft
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                don′t 
                                                want 
                                                you 
                                                to 
                                                think
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                this 
                                                is 
                                                some 
                                                kind 
                                                of 
                                                deathbed 
                                                confession
 
                                    
                                
                                                But 
                                                run 
                                                is 
                                                what 
                                                    I 
                                                did 
                                                when 
                                                put 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                test
 
                                    
                                
                                                My 
                                                first 
                                                recollection 
                                                is 
                                                    a 
                                                day 
                                                in 
                                                December
 
                                    
                                
                                                747 
                                                tracing 
                                                lines 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                sky
 
                                    
                                
                                                Like 
                                                some 
                                                old 
                                                gypsy 
                                                curse
 
                                    
                                
                                                Silently 
                                                preying 
                                                upon 
                                                the 
                                                dreams 
                                                of 
                                                those
 
                                    
                                
                                                Who 
                                                jealously 
                                                watch 
                                                life 
                                                pass 
                                                by
 
                                    
                                
                                                I′ve 
                                                sat 
                                                and 
                                                watched 
                                                my 
                                                troubles
 
                                    
                                
                                                Pile 
                                                through 
                                                the 
                                                summer
 
                                    
                                
                                                Now 
                                                I'm 
                                                sitting, 
                                                hearing 
                                                my 
                                                youngest 
                                                cry
 
                                    
                                
                                                Down 
                                                the 
                                                hall
 
                                    
                                
                                                Winter′s 
                                                coming 
                                                on, 
                                                days 
                                                getting 
                                                dreary
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                I'm 
                                                thinking 
                                                this 
                                                is 
                                                the 
                                                season
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                    I 
                                                leave 
                                                you 
                                                all
 
                                    
                                
                                                I′ve 
                                                heard 
                                                that 
                                                the 
                                                son 
                                                must 
                                                bear
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                burdens 
                                                of 
                                                the 
                                                father
 
                                    
                                
                                                But 
                                                it's 
                                                the 
                                                daughter 
                                                that 
                                                is 
                                                left
 
                                    
                                
                                                To 
                                                clean 
                                                up 
                                                the 
                                                mess
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                    I 
                                                don′t 
                                                want 
                                                you 
                                                to 
                                                think
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                I'm 
                                                asking 
                                                for 
                                                absolution,
 
                                    
                                
                                                But 
                                                run 
                                                is 
                                                what 
                                                    I 
                                                did 
                                                when 
                                                put 
                                                to 
                                                the 
                                                test
 
                                    
                                 
                            1 Crescent Moon
2 First Recollection
3 Ring On the Sill
4 Anniversary Song
5 White Sail
6 Seven Years
7 Pale Sun
8 The Post
9 Cold Tea Blues
10 Hard To Explain
11 Hunted
12 Floorboard Blues
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