Roger Miller - Darby's Castle lyrics
[Roger Miller - Darby's Castle lyrics]
See the ruin on the hill where
The smoke is hanging still
Like an echo of an age long forgotten
There's a story of a home
Crushed beneath those blackened stones
And the roof that fell before
The beams were rotten
Seems old Darby loved his wife and
He labored all his life
To provide her with material possessions
And he built for her a home
Of the finest wood and stone
And the building soon became
His sole obsession
Oh it took three hundred days for
The timbers to be raised
And the silhouette was seen for miles around
And the gables reached as high as
The eagles in the sky
But it only took one night to bring it
Down when Darby's castle tumbled
To the ground
Though they shared the common bed
There was precious little said
In the moments that were
Set aside for sleeping
For his busy dreams were filled with
The rooms he'd yet to build
And he never heard young Helen Darby weeping
Then one night he heard the sound
As he laid his pencil down
And he traced it to her
Door and turned the handle
And the pale light of the moon
Through the window of the room
Split the shadows where two
Bodies lay in tangle
Oh it took three hundred days
The smoke is hanging still
Like an echo of an age long forgotten
There's a story of a home
Crushed beneath those blackened stones
And the roof that fell before
The beams were rotten
Seems old Darby loved his wife and
He labored all his life
To provide her with material possessions
And he built for her a home
Of the finest wood and stone
And the building soon became
His sole obsession
Oh it took three hundred days for
The timbers to be raised
And the silhouette was seen for miles around
And the gables reached as high as
The eagles in the sky
But it only took one night to bring it
Down when Darby's castle tumbled
To the ground
Though they shared the common bed
There was precious little said
In the moments that were
Set aside for sleeping
For his busy dreams were filled with
The rooms he'd yet to build
And he never heard young Helen Darby weeping
Then one night he heard the sound
As he laid his pencil down
And he traced it to her
Door and turned the handle
And the pale light of the moon
Through the window of the room
Split the shadows where two
Bodies lay in tangle
Oh it took three hundred days