Adios Hermanos 歌词
| 歌曲 | Adios Hermanos |
| 歌手 | Paul Simon |
| 专辑 | The Essential Paul Simon |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Simon, Walcott | |
| It was the morning of October 6th, 1960 | |
| I was wearing my brown suit | |
| Preparing to leave the house of D. | |
| Shook some hands then acfios Brooklyn amigos | |
| Maybe some of them had hopes of seeing me again | |
| Some even said that my judge- | |
| Judge Gerald Culkin- | |
| Wouldn't play it by the book | |
| Maybe let us off the hook | |
| Rut, WOH-OO-WOH, I knew better. | |
| Afraid to ieave the projects | |
| To cross into another neighborhood | |
| The blancos and the nigger gangs | |
| Well, they'd kill you if they could. | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| All over the world | |
| Spanish children are taught on their knees | |
| to believe | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| All over the island tonight, | |
| Mothers weep | |
| Sisters grieve. | |
| Well, I entered the courtroom, state of New York | |
| County of New York, Just some spic | |
| They scrubbed off the sidewalk | |
| Guilty by my dress | |
| Guilty in the press | |
| Let The Capeman burn for the murder | |
| Well the 'Spanish boys' had their day in court | |
| And now it was time for some fuckin' law and order | |
| The electric chair | |
| For the greasy pair | |
| Said the judge to the court reporter | |
| Afraid to leave the projects | |
| To cross into another neighborhood | |
| The newspapers and the T.V. crews | |
| Well, they'd kill you if they could | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| Ail over the world | |
| A Spanish boy could be killed every night of | |
| the week | |
| But just let some white boy die | |
| And the world goes crazy for blood-Latin blood. | |
| I don't lie when I speak. | |
| Well they shackled my hands | |
| A heavy belt around my waist to restrain me | |
| And they shackled my legs | |
| Hernandez, the 'Umbrella Man,' chained beside me | |
| Then we rode that Black Maria | |
| Through the streets of Spanish Harlem | |
| Calling old friends on the corners | |
| Just to lay our prayers upon them | |
| Crying | |
| Adios Hermanos. Adios | |
| Adios Hermanos, Adios |
| zuo ci : Simon, Walcott | |
| It was the morning of October 6th, 1960 | |
| I was wearing my brown suit | |
| Preparing to leave the house of D. | |
| Shook some hands then acfios Brooklyn amigos | |
| Maybe some of them had hopes of seeing me again | |
| Some even said that my judge | |
| Judge Gerald Culkin | |
| Wouldn' t play it by the book | |
| Maybe let us off the hook | |
| Rut, WOHOOWOH, I knew better. | |
| Afraid to ieave the projects | |
| To cross into another neighborhood | |
| The blancos and the nigger gangs | |
| Well, they' d kill you if they could. | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| All over the world | |
| Spanish children are taught on their knees | |
| to believe | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| All over the island tonight, | |
| Mothers weep | |
| Sisters grieve. | |
| Well, I entered the courtroom, state of New York | |
| County of New York, Just some spic | |
| They scrubbed off the sidewalk | |
| Guilty by my dress | |
| Guilty in the press | |
| Let The Capeman burn for the murder | |
| Well the ' Spanish boys' had their day in court | |
| And now it was time for some fuckin' law and order | |
| The electric chair | |
| For the greasy pair | |
| Said the judge to the court reporter | |
| Afraid to leave the projects | |
| To cross into another neighborhood | |
| The newspapers and the T. V. crews | |
| Well, they' d kill you if they could | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| Ail over the world | |
| A Spanish boy could be killed every night of | |
| the week | |
| But just let some white boy die | |
| And the world goes crazy for bloodLatin blood. | |
| I don' t lie when I speak. | |
| Well they shackled my hands | |
| A heavy belt around my waist to restrain me | |
| And they shackled my legs | |
| Hernandez, the ' Umbrella Man,' chained beside me | |
| Then we rode that Black Maria | |
| Through the streets of Spanish Harlem | |
| Calling old friends on the corners | |
| Just to lay our prayers upon them | |
| Crying | |
| Adios Hermanos. Adios | |
| Adios Hermanos, Adios |
| zuò cí : Simon, Walcott | |
| It was the morning of October 6th, 1960 | |
| I was wearing my brown suit | |
| Preparing to leave the house of D. | |
| Shook some hands then acfios Brooklyn amigos | |
| Maybe some of them had hopes of seeing me again | |
| Some even said that my judge | |
| Judge Gerald Culkin | |
| Wouldn' t play it by the book | |
| Maybe let us off the hook | |
| Rut, WOHOOWOH, I knew better. | |
| Afraid to ieave the projects | |
| To cross into another neighborhood | |
| The blancos and the nigger gangs | |
| Well, they' d kill you if they could. | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| All over the world | |
| Spanish children are taught on their knees | |
| to believe | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| All over the island tonight, | |
| Mothers weep | |
| Sisters grieve. | |
| Well, I entered the courtroom, state of New York | |
| County of New York, Just some spic | |
| They scrubbed off the sidewalk | |
| Guilty by my dress | |
| Guilty in the press | |
| Let The Capeman burn for the murder | |
| Well the ' Spanish boys' had their day in court | |
| And now it was time for some fuckin' law and order | |
| The electric chair | |
| For the greasy pair | |
| Said the judge to the court reporter | |
| Afraid to leave the projects | |
| To cross into another neighborhood | |
| The newspapers and the T. V. crews | |
| Well, they' d kill you if they could | |
| Angel of Mercy, people are suffering | |
| Ail over the world | |
| A Spanish boy could be killed every night of | |
| the week | |
| But just let some white boy die | |
| And the world goes crazy for bloodLatin blood. | |
| I don' t lie when I speak. | |
| Well they shackled my hands | |
| A heavy belt around my waist to restrain me | |
| And they shackled my legs | |
| Hernandez, the ' Umbrella Man,' chained beside me | |
| Then we rode that Black Maria | |
| Through the streets of Spanish Harlem | |
| Calling old friends on the corners | |
| Just to lay our prayers upon them | |
| Crying | |
| Adios Hermanos. Adios | |
| Adios Hermanos, Adios |
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