![Eyes Of The World [Live At Winterland Arena, San Francisco, CA, December 30, 1977]](/storage/19/188196.jpg "Eyes Of The World [Live At Winterland Arena, San Francisco, CA, December 30, 1977]")
Eyes Of The World [Live At Winterland Arena, San Francisco, CA, December 30, 1977] 歌词
| 歌曲 | Eyes Of The World [Live At Winterland Arena, San Francisco, CA, December 30, 1977] |
| 歌手 | Grateful Dead |
| 专辑 | Dick's Picks Volume 10: Winterland Arena 12/29/1977 |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Robert Hunter/Jerry Garcia | |
| 作曲 : Robert Hunter/Jerry Garcia | |
| Right outside this lazy summer home | |
| You ain't got time to call your soul a critic no. | |
| Right outside the lazy gate of winter's summer home, | |
| Wond'rin' where the nut-thatch winters, | |
| Wings a mile long just carried the bird away. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own. | |
| There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away, | |
| And there follows his wagon behind him that's loaded with clay. | |
| And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay, | |
| And night comes so quiet, it's close on the heels of the day. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own. | |
| Sometimes we live no particular way but our own, | |
| And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home, | |
| Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone, | |
| Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it's beaches, it's homeland and thoughts of it's own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it's seasons, it's evenin's and songs of it's own. |
| zuo ci : Robert Hunter Jerry Garcia | |
| zuo qu : Robert Hunter Jerry Garcia | |
| Right outside this lazy summer home | |
| You ain' t got time to call your soul a critic no. | |
| Right outside the lazy gate of winter' s summer home, | |
| Wond' rin' where the nutthatch winters, | |
| Wings a mile long just carried the bird away. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it' s beaches, it' s homeland and thoughts of it' s own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it' s seasons, it' s evenin' s and songs of it' s own. | |
| There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away, | |
| And there follows his wagon behind him that' s loaded with clay. | |
| And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay, | |
| And night comes so quiet, it' s close on the heels of the day. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it' s beaches, it' s homeland and thoughts of it' s own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it' s seasons, it' s evenin' s and songs of it' s own. | |
| Sometimes we live no particular way but our own, | |
| And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home, | |
| Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone, | |
| Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it' s beaches, it' s homeland and thoughts of it' s own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it' s seasons, it' s evenin' s and songs of it' s own. |
| zuò cí : Robert Hunter Jerry Garcia | |
| zuò qǔ : Robert Hunter Jerry Garcia | |
| Right outside this lazy summer home | |
| You ain' t got time to call your soul a critic no. | |
| Right outside the lazy gate of winter' s summer home, | |
| Wond' rin' where the nutthatch winters, | |
| Wings a mile long just carried the bird away. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it' s beaches, it' s homeland and thoughts of it' s own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it' s seasons, it' s evenin' s and songs of it' s own. | |
| There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away, | |
| And there follows his wagon behind him that' s loaded with clay. | |
| And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay, | |
| And night comes so quiet, it' s close on the heels of the day. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it' s beaches, it' s homeland and thoughts of it' s own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it' s seasons, it' s evenin' s and songs of it' s own. | |
| Sometimes we live no particular way but our own, | |
| And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home, | |
| Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone, | |
| Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own. | |
| Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world, | |
| The heart has it' s beaches, it' s homeland and thoughts of it' s own. | |
| Wake now, discover that you are the song that the mornin' brings, | |
| But the heart has it' s seasons, it' s evenin' s and songs of it' s own. |
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