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| Travelling Pedlar © Copyright George Papavgeris, April 2002 Memories of a long-gone social institution in Mediterranean countries – the man who was selling everything and provided the glue between the villages he visited Tired and cold, my horses old, thirty years we're on the tether Miles on the road, and tons of load, and in every kind of weather. Through the villages, the hamlets and the towns 'Cross the bridges and the rivers and the downs Time for some rest, I've done my best all the years I've been a pedlar Cotton and lace, creams for the face, ladies' gloves of softest leather, Silver and silk, all dreams fulfilled, for each hat I had a feather. Men I helped to choose a present for their wives. I helped women to get through their dreary lives. Time for some rest, I've done my best all the years I've been a pedlar Gossip and fact, all served with tact, and who's pregnant and who isn't Questions and clues, and city news, I'd deliver every visit. Whose good-looking daughter now has come of age In the fashion shops which colours are the rage Time for some rest, I've done my best all the years I've been a pedlar. Youth elixir the old to stir and some tonic for the weaker Potions and pills no doctor sells, even something for the weekend. I have helped to bring together many hearts But for me only my horses and my cart Time for some rest, I've done my best all the years I've been a pedlar. Time moving on, I've sung my song, the old days have gone for ever Nobody cares to buy my wares, no one needs the travelling pedlar. Days go faster, no one needs to pass the time And in villages the only cry is mine Time for some rest, I've done my best all the years I've been a pedlar. |
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George's CDs are manufactured by Bump Studios
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