Sin orden ni concierto

  Versión de Don McLean de la canción irlandesa escrita por Percy French (1854-1920), y música  adaptada por Houston Collisson (1865-1920) de la melodía  tradicional irlandesa " Carrigdonn ". Letra Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight With people here working by day and by night They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat But there's gangs of them diggin' For gold in the street At least when I asked them That's what I was told so I just took a hand At this diggin' for gold But for all that I've found there I might as well be In the place where the dark Mourne Sweeps down to the sea I believe that when writin' A wish you expressed As to how the fine ladies In London were dressed Well if you'll believe me When asked to a ball They don't wear no tops to Their dresses at all Oh, I've seen them myself and You could not in truth Tell it if they were bound for A ball or a bath Don't be startin' them fashions now Mary McRee In...

  Canción de 1970 de Don McLean en homenaje a Vincent van Gogh .  Letra Starry, starry night Paint your palette blue and gray Look out on a summer's day With eyes that know the darkness in my soul Shadows on the hills Sketch the trees and the daffodils Catch the breeze and the winter chills In colors on the snowy linen land Now I understand What you tried to say to me And how you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps they'll listen now Starry, starry night Flaming flowers that brightly blaze Swirling clouds in violet haze Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue Colors changing hue Morning fields of amber grain Weathered faces lined in pain Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand Now I understand What you tried to say to me And how you suffered for your sanity And how you tried to set them free They would not listen, they did not know how Perhaps they'll listen now For they could not love...

  Don MacLean publica en 1976 esta bellísima canción, que quizás no pasa por ser de sus más conocidas, y que describe el dolor de la separación, la nostalgia de una vida incumplida.  I feel the trembling tingle of a sleepless night Creep through my fingers and the moon is bright Beams of blue come flickering through my window pane Like gypsy moths that dance around a candle flame And I wonder if you know That I never understood That although you said you'd go Until you did I never thought you would Moonlight used to bathe the contours of your face While chestnut hair fell all around the pillow case And the fragrance of your flowers rest beneath my head A sympathy bouquet left with the love that's dead And I wonder if you know That I never understood That although you said you'd go Until you did I never thought you would Never thought the words you said were true Never thought you said just what you meant Never knew how much I needed you Never thought you'd leave, until ...