HER STORY

Tekst: Maria Hansen Troøyen (skrevet i 2003!!)

Melodi: Harald (2022) 🙂

Sang: Joey Frihaug

 

Denne har en flott historie:
Jeg var på Ludo i Harstad for å se på byens unge talenter
På scenen står plutselig Joey, leieboeren min, og synger energisk og kjempeflott!
Etter showet spør jeg om Joey kanskje kunne synge en av mine sanger. Joey valgte denne.
Tekstforfatteren, min datter Maria, skrev dette i en melding til meg:
«Wow, så kult Joey syng! Du må hilse og si at æ e imponert, det der va stilig »
Det syns æ å!

Her bruker jeg endelig en Fender nylonstrenger på riffet og soloen.
Telecasteren jeg fikk i bursdagsgave av den flotte kona mi, legger akkorder med tremolo.
Yamama keyboards låter lekkert. Null kor, fordi jeg vil ikke forstyrre budskapet som Joey formidler med en herlig innlevelse. Hurra!

Spill Joey når sangen kommer på Spotify om en stund (Planen er 1. januar 2023)
LAG VAKRE DAGA, VENNA OG NABOA! 

 

 

HER STORY

Tekst: Maria Hansen Troøyen

Her Story (Each Saturday Night)
Each Saturday night from eleven to four,
You will hear her silky voice if you enter the door.
The same pub, the same songs, the same woman on stage,
But no one knows her story – that’s the un-written page.
No one knows that the beautiful woman in red,
The same night walks home alone to her bed.
The love of her life was hit by a train.
“Don’t worry,” they said, “he didn’t feel much pain.”
Chorus:  But every lonely night she can still hear his voice,
             When you love someone, you don’t have a choice.
             Each Saturday she sings out her heart and soul,
             But he’s gone for good, she can never be whole
             Again.
Each Saturday night she sings her blues,
‘bout problems much harder than which dress to choose.
Her diamonds, her face, oh, she’s such a pretty sight,
And often the men end up having a fight.
But infatuations will all find their end,
This woman has only one love, my friend.
The love of her life was hit by a train.
“Don’t worry,” they said, “he didn’t feel much pain.”
Chorus:  But every lonely night she can still hear his voice,
             When you love someone, you don’t have a choice.
             Each Saturday she sings out her heart and soul,
             But he’s gone for good, she can never be whole
             Again.
DETTE REFRENGET BLE DET IKKE PLASS TIL, DESSVERRE! 🙂
             The diamonds, the glittering stones, she’d throw them all away,
             If someone could bring him back, she doesn’t sing, she prays.
             The audience they love her, she’s called “the blooming rose”,
             But inside her feelings wither
             – (I guess) that’s how the story goes.