歌曲 | The Iron Man |
歌手 | Tom Paxton |
专辑 | Things I Notice Now |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Out on the road, the mud knee-high | |
The tortured trucks were slithering by | |
Toward the ruptured, shattered sky | |
They strove. It hardly mattered why | |
We find our hero in the mud | |
We guess the fever in his blood | |
We try, as he, to laugh at this | |
The Iron Man whom bullets | |
He's right, the song has just begun | |
We'd never kill a man so young | |
He's right, the song has just begun | |
We'd never kill a man so young | |
The sergeant, how they loathed his guts | |
He led them down the waggon ruts | |
One truck is stalled, the drivers curse | |
It's either ambulance or hearse | |
The air grows foul, the heavy stench | |
Is seeping from the ancient trench | |
He takes his place and laughs at this | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
He's right, no matter how they try | |
The song's too young for him to die | |
He's right, no matter how they try | |
The song's too young for him to die | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Winter came early to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow | |
The builders looked at its unfinished frame, then turned to go | |
A small foundation, a pile of sand, a rusty hammer in a cold, cold hand | |
It wasn't a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came hard | |
Winter was death to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow | |
Warped its timbers and cracked the foundations, then turned to go | |
The sketch was crumpled in a cold, cold hand. The hammer buried in the pile of sand | |
The builders' thoughts were of virgin land when winter came early and winter came hard | |
Spring was puzzled by the house on the hill, last patch of snow | |
Gave it flowers and climbing vines, then turned to go | |
Small boys played on the pile of sand, plastic weapons in their eager hands | |
It wasn't a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came hard | |
The young lieutenant, new to war | |
Is sick upon the trench's floor | |
The sergeant, how they cursed his head | |
Is suddenly quite cold and dead | |
The deafening explosions cease | |
The calm a cruel burlesque of peace | |
The whistle blows, the charge is made | |
The Iron Man is unafraid | |
He's right, he's young and brave and strong | |
Just the kind to fill a song | |
He's right, he's young and brave and strong | |
Just the kind to fill a song | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Frost on the blankets of the strong boys' room | |
Heat for the sissies, for the prep-school pansies | |
Ice cold showers for the cool platoon | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Wipe that smile off and shine your brass | |
Grab your ankles and I'll give you twenty | |
Drop that rifle and I'll have your ass | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle's sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping. I'll be all right | |
Goodnight. Goodnight | |
Town girls love it in the picture shows | |
Save the dances for the home-town ladies | |
Save five dollars for the one who knows | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Grab your ankles for the old cadets | |
Drop your trousers and you'll get what's coming | |
Is there more to this than you're quite sure of? | |
Put it in a card to mamma | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle's sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping. I'll be all right | |
Goodnight, goodnight! | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle's sleeping | |
The whistle blows. The charge is made | |
The Iron Man is unafraid | |
The young lieutenant screams out loud | |
The bullets hum like a startled crowd | |
The young lieutenant screams and falls | |
The Iron Man runs up the walls | |
And blows the enemy a kiss | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
He's right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
He's right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
The water breaks on the spit of sand | |
How does it survive? | |
Angie, for all I know | |
The sand is tired and ready to go | |
It's less than alive | |
But you, so ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie's your name! | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
Your smile is so discretely planned | |
I'm not sure it's there | |
Angie, for all I know | |
You'll notice me, you'll turn and go | |
You won't even care | |
That's you, so ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie's your name! | |
Angie, I was getting along | |
Nothing quite right, but nothing too wrong | |
I didn't know you existed | |
I ran my life like a safe machine | |
Lost myself in a safe routine | |
But now it's all twisted | |
With my hand on the knife | |
For the rest of my life | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
You rise and wave an ungloved hand | |
You smile in the sun | |
Angie, you smile for him | |
He calls to you. The light is dim | |
You break into a run | |
And you're gone. So ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie's your name! | |
The battered fort is ours again | |
It only cost ten-thousand men | |
And when a young lieutenant dies | |
Some survivor has to rise | |
So like a humble prayer of thanks | |
The Iron Man goes up the ranks | |
The man whom bullets miss goes far | |
He wins a kiss and wears a star | |
And he's right – a man who lives through that | |
Deserves a star upon his hat | |
He's right – a man who lives through that | |
Deserves a star upon his hat | |
And now the nation cheers his name | |
The politicians play his game | |
He's coaxed and shrewdly follows fate | |
Until he's leader of the State | |
The peace grows dull, the pace too slow | |
At last he finds convenient foe | |
The Congress balks, the galleries hiss | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
But he's right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
He's right, the Generals pat their guns | |
And Congress turns and Congress runs | |
He's right, the nation shouts its thanks | |
The young men run to join the ranks | |
He's right, his name is in their blood | |
While huddling in some foreign mud | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, mess-kit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle's sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping, I'll be all right | |
Goodnight, goodnight! |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Out on the road, the mud kneehigh | |
The tortured trucks were slithering by | |
Toward the ruptured, shattered sky | |
They strove. It hardly mattered why | |
We find our hero in the mud | |
We guess the fever in his blood | |
We try, as he, to laugh at this | |
The Iron Man whom bullets | |
He' s right, the song has just begun | |
We' d never kill a man so young | |
He' s right, the song has just begun | |
We' d never kill a man so young | |
The sergeant, how they loathed his guts | |
He led them down the waggon ruts | |
One truck is stalled, the drivers curse | |
It' s either ambulance or hearse | |
The air grows foul, the heavy stench | |
Is seeping from the ancient trench | |
He takes his place and laughs at this | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
He' s right, no matter how they try | |
The song' s too young for him to die | |
He' s right, no matter how they try | |
The song' s too young for him to die | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Winter came early to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow | |
The builders looked at its unfinished frame, then turned to go | |
A small foundation, a pile of sand, a rusty hammer in a cold, cold hand | |
It wasn' t a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came hard | |
Winter was death to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow | |
Warped its timbers and cracked the foundations, then turned to go | |
The sketch was crumpled in a cold, cold hand. The hammer buried in the pile of sand | |
The builders' thoughts were of virgin land when winter came early and winter came hard | |
Spring was puzzled by the house on the hill, last patch of snow | |
Gave it flowers and climbing vines, then turned to go | |
Small boys played on the pile of sand, plastic weapons in their eager hands | |
It wasn' t a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came hard | |
The young lieutenant, new to war | |
Is sick upon the trench' s floor | |
The sergeant, how they cursed his head | |
Is suddenly quite cold and dead | |
The deafening explosions cease | |
The calm a cruel burlesque of peace | |
The whistle blows, the charge is made | |
The Iron Man is unafraid | |
He' s right, he' s young and brave and strong | |
Just the kind to fill a song | |
He' s right, he' s young and brave and strong | |
Just the kind to fill a song | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Frost on the blankets of the strong boys' room | |
Heat for the sissies, for the prepschool pansies | |
Ice cold showers for the cool platoon | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Wipe that smile off and shine your brass | |
Grab your ankles and I' ll give you twenty | |
Drop that rifle and I' ll have your ass | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping. I' ll be all right | |
Goodnight. Goodnight | |
Town girls love it in the picture shows | |
Save the dances for the hometown ladies | |
Save five dollars for the one who knows | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Grab your ankles for the old cadets | |
Drop your trousers and you' ll get what' s coming | |
Is there more to this than you' re quite sure of? | |
Put it in a card to mamma | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping. I' ll be all right | |
Goodnight, goodnight! | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
The whistle blows. The charge is made | |
The Iron Man is unafraid | |
The young lieutenant screams out loud | |
The bullets hum like a startled crowd | |
The young lieutenant screams and falls | |
The Iron Man runs up the walls | |
And blows the enemy a kiss | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
He' s right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
He' s right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
The water breaks on the spit of sand | |
How does it survive? | |
Angie, for all I know | |
The sand is tired and ready to go | |
It' s less than alive | |
But you, so ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie' s your name! | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
Your smile is so discretely planned | |
I' m not sure it' s there | |
Angie, for all I know | |
You' ll notice me, you' ll turn and go | |
You won' t even care | |
That' s you, so ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie' s your name! | |
Angie, I was getting along | |
Nothing quite right, but nothing too wrong | |
I didn' t know you existed | |
I ran my life like a safe machine | |
Lost myself in a safe routine | |
But now it' s all twisted | |
With my hand on the knife | |
For the rest of my life | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
You rise and wave an ungloved hand | |
You smile in the sun | |
Angie, you smile for him | |
He calls to you. The light is dim | |
You break into a run | |
And you' re gone. So ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie' s your name! | |
The battered fort is ours again | |
It only cost tenthousand men | |
And when a young lieutenant dies | |
Some survivor has to rise | |
So like a humble prayer of thanks | |
The Iron Man goes up the ranks | |
The man whom bullets miss goes far | |
He wins a kiss and wears a star | |
And he' s right a man who lives through that | |
Deserves a star upon his hat | |
He' s right a man who lives through that | |
Deserves a star upon his hat | |
And now the nation cheers his name | |
The politicians play his game | |
He' s coaxed and shrewdly follows fate | |
Until he' s leader of the State | |
The peace grows dull, the pace too slow | |
At last he finds convenient foe | |
The Congress balks, the galleries hiss | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
But he' s right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
He' s right, the Generals pat their guns | |
And Congress turns and Congress runs | |
He' s right, the nation shouts its thanks | |
The young men run to join the ranks | |
He' s right, his name is in their blood | |
While huddling in some foreign mud | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping, I' ll be all right | |
Goodnight, goodnight! |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Out on the road, the mud kneehigh | |
The tortured trucks were slithering by | |
Toward the ruptured, shattered sky | |
They strove. It hardly mattered why | |
We find our hero in the mud | |
We guess the fever in his blood | |
We try, as he, to laugh at this | |
The Iron Man whom bullets | |
He' s right, the song has just begun | |
We' d never kill a man so young | |
He' s right, the song has just begun | |
We' d never kill a man so young | |
The sergeant, how they loathed his guts | |
He led them down the waggon ruts | |
One truck is stalled, the drivers curse | |
It' s either ambulance or hearse | |
The air grows foul, the heavy stench | |
Is seeping from the ancient trench | |
He takes his place and laughs at this | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
He' s right, no matter how they try | |
The song' s too young for him to die | |
He' s right, no matter how they try | |
The song' s too young for him to die | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Winter came early to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow | |
The builders looked at its unfinished frame, then turned to go | |
A small foundation, a pile of sand, a rusty hammer in a cold, cold hand | |
It wasn' t a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came hard | |
Winter was death to the house on the hill, frost, wind and snow | |
Warped its timbers and cracked the foundations, then turned to go | |
The sketch was crumpled in a cold, cold hand. The hammer buried in the pile of sand | |
The builders' thoughts were of virgin land when winter came early and winter came hard | |
Spring was puzzled by the house on the hill, last patch of snow | |
Gave it flowers and climbing vines, then turned to go | |
Small boys played on the pile of sand, plastic weapons in their eager hands | |
It wasn' t a big house that they planned, but winter came early and winter came hard | |
The young lieutenant, new to war | |
Is sick upon the trench' s floor | |
The sergeant, how they cursed his head | |
Is suddenly quite cold and dead | |
The deafening explosions cease | |
The calm a cruel burlesque of peace | |
The whistle blows, the charge is made | |
The Iron Man is unafraid | |
He' s right, he' s young and brave and strong | |
Just the kind to fill a song | |
He' s right, he' s young and brave and strong | |
Just the kind to fill a song | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Frost on the blankets of the strong boys' room | |
Heat for the sissies, for the prepschool pansies | |
Ice cold showers for the cool platoon | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Wipe that smile off and shine your brass | |
Grab your ankles and I' ll give you twenty | |
Drop that rifle and I' ll have your ass | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping. I' ll be all right | |
Goodnight. Goodnight | |
Town girls love it in the picture shows | |
Save the dances for the hometown ladies | |
Save five dollars for the one who knows | |
Once a month a card to mamma | |
Grab your ankles for the old cadets | |
Drop your trousers and you' ll get what' s coming | |
Is there more to this than you' re quite sure of? | |
Put it in a card to mamma | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping. I' ll be all right | |
Goodnight, goodnight! | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
The whistle blows. The charge is made | |
The Iron Man is unafraid | |
The young lieutenant screams out loud | |
The bullets hum like a startled crowd | |
The young lieutenant screams and falls | |
The Iron Man runs up the walls | |
And blows the enemy a kiss | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
He' s right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
He' s right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
The water breaks on the spit of sand | |
How does it survive? | |
Angie, for all I know | |
The sand is tired and ready to go | |
It' s less than alive | |
But you, so ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie' s your name! | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
Your smile is so discretely planned | |
I' m not sure it' s there | |
Angie, for all I know | |
You' ll notice me, you' ll turn and go | |
You won' t even care | |
That' s you, so ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie' s your name! | |
Angie, I was getting along | |
Nothing quite right, but nothing too wrong | |
I didn' t know you existed | |
I ran my life like a safe machine | |
Lost myself in a safe routine | |
But now it' s all twisted | |
With my hand on the knife | |
For the rest of my life | |
Angie, from where I stand | |
You rise and wave an ungloved hand | |
You smile in the sun | |
Angie, you smile for him | |
He calls to you. The light is dim | |
You break into a run | |
And you' re gone. So ready to leave. The first trembling leaf to break loose in the Fall | |
Angie, so ready to fly. Is there time to ask why? Is there no time at all? | |
Or is there nothing hidden I can blame? | |
Angie, If Angie' s your name! | |
The battered fort is ours again | |
It only cost tenthousand men | |
And when a young lieutenant dies | |
Some survivor has to rise | |
So like a humble prayer of thanks | |
The Iron Man goes up the ranks | |
The man whom bullets miss goes far | |
He wins a kiss and wears a star | |
And he' s right a man who lives through that | |
Deserves a star upon his hat | |
He' s right a man who lives through that | |
Deserves a star upon his hat | |
And now the nation cheers his name | |
The politicians play his game | |
He' s coaxed and shrewdly follows fate | |
Until he' s leader of the State | |
The peace grows dull, the pace too slow | |
At last he finds convenient foe | |
The Congress balks, the galleries hiss | |
The Iron Man whom bullets miss | |
But he' s right, the man whom bullets miss | |
Is meant for something more than this | |
He' s right, the Generals pat their guns | |
And Congress turns and Congress runs | |
He' s right, the nation shouts its thanks | |
The young men run to join the ranks | |
He' s right, his name is in their blood | |
While huddling in some foreign mud | |
The orders came, the midnight rain | |
Was driving down the window pane | |
They rose like cattle, messkit rattle | |
Showed them green and new to battle | |
Play me the Taps, the quadrangle' s sleeping | |
Here in his rack my roommate is weeping | |
Someone is weeping, I' ll be all right | |
Goodnight, goodnight! |