Upravit profil
Klasik rock’n’rollu, kytarista, zpěvák a skladatel černošsko - indiánského původu, vlastním jménem Charles Edward Anderson Berry (narozen v San José, 1926). V roce 1955 mu k prvnímu kontaktu s Chess Records pomohl Muddy Waters. První nahrávkou...
Píseň: My Dream
- Interpret:
- Chuck Berry
- Album:
- San Francisco Dues
When I build my home, That I shall have some day; It'll be like I want it Oh - and I mean that in every way. I have yet to see any that would cope with the style - Of the house that I dream of; That I'll build after a while. The roof of it will have peak lines, and contours that dip; and form shadowy eaves, where the little raindrops can drip. ... That sweet pitter patter, of raindrops at play - is such a beautiful sound on a quiet gloomy day. You know, when the wind is high, And the storm gods race, and I'll be snugged up by my fire-place. Maybe feeding my little dog, or playing with my little cat. But unconsciously yearning, and wonderin' where you're at. But when the meadow is shadowed by that old sinking sun; And the roses are bowing for the dew drops to come; At my old upright piano, with pure ivory keys, I'll just plunk out some vibrations of whatever I please. Sometimes it'll be classics, sometimes lullabies; But mostly rock n' roll - that I'll surely improvise. And with my favourite guitar, I'll be just strummin' away and bidding goodbye, to another beautiful day. A portrait of my angel, That I love most of all - I'll have painted from a snapshot onto my bedroom wall. Where the suns warm rays, and the moon's cold beam Will cast her reflection, as I lay there and dream. You know, I can't deny - but it makes me so sad, When I think that I've lost All that I could have had. It was best for her - And I guess I, I know; That she measured my love - and then asked me to go. Then Finally my house, I will have it complete. And I'll take up a smoke, Sitting by the window sill. And I'll read my many books that I'll have in my bachelors nest; While the sun goes drooping - down in the west. And I'll feel that gold, warm light on my face; And then I'll start trippin' to some far off place. That through all of my travels, I must have missed somewhere - A place that I might find my angel someday. And I'll leave all that I have to the gods, up above; and go spend my life searching for the angel, that I love. For all of my dreams, would be but a souvenir; compared to the one that I love so dear.