Richard Thompson - Beeswing

I was nineteen when I came to town, they called it the Summer of Love
They were burning babies, burning flags. The hawks against the doves
I took a job in the steamie down on Cauldrum Street
And I fell in love with a laundry girl who was working next to me

Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, oh she was running wild
She said "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other way"

Brown hair zig-zag around her face and a look of half-surprise
Like a fox caught in the headlights, there was animal in her eyes
She said "Young man, oh can't you see I'm not the factory kind
If you don't take me out of here I'll surely lose my mind"

Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So fine that I might crush her where she lay
She was a lost child, she was running wild
She said "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other way"

We busked around the market towns and picked fruit down in Kent
And we could tinker lamps and pots and knives wherever we went
And I said that we might settle down, get a few acres dug
Fire burning in the hearth and babies on the rug
She said "Oh man, you foolish man, it surely sounds like hell.
You might be lord of half the world, you'll not own me as well"

Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
So fine a breath of wind might blow her away
She was a lost child, oh she was running wild
She said "As long as there's no price on love, I'll stay.
And you wouldn't want me any other way"

We was camping down the Gower one time, the work was pretty good
She thought we shouldn't wait for the frost and I thought maybe we should
We was drinking more in those days and tempers reached a pitch
And like a fool I let her run with the rambling itch

Oh the last I heard she's sleeping rough back on the Derby beat
White Horse in her hip pocket and a wolfhound at her feet
And they say she even married once, a man named Romany Brown
But even a gypsy caravan was too much settling down
And they say her flower is faded now, hard weather and hard booze
But maybe that's just the price you pay for the chains you refuse

Oh she was a rare thing, fine as a bee's wing
And I miss her more than ever words could say
If I could just taste all of her wildness now
If I could hold her in my arms today
Well I wouldn't want her any other way

• Category

  Music

[Ællondir Del'Thanor]

Sorry, to all you Christy Moore peeps, but there is no comparison.  This is the preeminent version of Beeswing nothing can match the prue emotion of Thompson's vocal work, nor the sheer technical brilliance of his guitar work.

[Laura Dhert]

If this is your sort of thing, try "Proserpine in Moscow" by James Newton Chadwick!

[wilson2012er]

RT wrote Beeswing. Are you trollin' ?

[stephen hegarty]

Exquisite, master at work :-{0>

[Randy Millage]

Richard Thompson makes Beeswing his own. Pure, beautiful and full of sensitivity to love and the human condition. Lyrics of the tenements by Christy Moore and masterful guitar by RT

[malachy1847]

....Music 'Stalinists' of thew World unite......critics... as useful as eunuchs in a harem'

[mickenoss]

1,220 - 14 ratio is good for YT. =)

[mickenoss]

Reminds me of my first love, I still miss her even now =(

[Archie Merwin]

This song is so beautiful. His love for her was gentle, and patient, adoring . . . . and tragic. He couldn't keep her so he let her go. I'd give anything to see a picture of her.

[Andy Griffiths]

I love Christy Moore's voice, but this will always be THE version for me :)

[MrWhatever2011ish]

Really! There were 14 people who didn't like this ????