歌曲 | St. John The Gambler |
歌手 | Townes Van Zandt |
专辑 | Be Here To Love Me (Soundtrack) |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Townes Van Zandt | |
When she had twenty years, well she turned to her mother | |
Saying mother, I know that you'll grieve | |
But I've given my soul to st john the gambler | |
Tomorrow comes time to leave | |
For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever | |
And dead men lie deep 'round the door | |
The only salvation that's mine for the asking | |
So mother, think on me no more | |
And winter held high round the mountains' breast | |
And the cold of a thousand snows | |
Lay heaped upon the forest's leaf | |
But she dressed in calico | |
For a gambler likes his women fancy | |
Fancy she would be | |
And the fire of her longing would keep way the cold | |
And her dress was a sight to see | |
But the road was long beneath the feet | |
She followed her frozen breath | |
In search of a certain st john the gambler | |
Stumbling to her death | |
She heard his laughter right down from the mountains | |
And danced with her mother's tears | |
To a funeral drawn of calico | |
'neath the cross of twenty years | |
To a funeral drawn of calico | |
'neath the cross of twenty years |
zuo ci : Townes Van Zandt | |
When she had twenty years, well she turned to her mother | |
Saying mother, I know that you' ll grieve | |
But I' ve given my soul to st john the gambler | |
Tomorrow comes time to leave | |
For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever | |
And dead men lie deep ' round the door | |
The only salvation that' s mine for the asking | |
So mother, think on me no more | |
And winter held high round the mountains' breast | |
And the cold of a thousand snows | |
Lay heaped upon the forest' s leaf | |
But she dressed in calico | |
For a gambler likes his women fancy | |
Fancy she would be | |
And the fire of her longing would keep way the cold | |
And her dress was a sight to see | |
But the road was long beneath the feet | |
She followed her frozen breath | |
In search of a certain st john the gambler | |
Stumbling to her death | |
She heard his laughter right down from the mountains | |
And danced with her mother' s tears | |
To a funeral drawn of calico | |
' neath the cross of twenty years | |
To a funeral drawn of calico | |
' neath the cross of twenty years |
zuò cí : Townes Van Zandt | |
When she had twenty years, well she turned to her mother | |
Saying mother, I know that you' ll grieve | |
But I' ve given my soul to st john the gambler | |
Tomorrow comes time to leave | |
For the hills cannot hold back my sorrow forever | |
And dead men lie deep ' round the door | |
The only salvation that' s mine for the asking | |
So mother, think on me no more | |
And winter held high round the mountains' breast | |
And the cold of a thousand snows | |
Lay heaped upon the forest' s leaf | |
But she dressed in calico | |
For a gambler likes his women fancy | |
Fancy she would be | |
And the fire of her longing would keep way the cold | |
And her dress was a sight to see | |
But the road was long beneath the feet | |
She followed her frozen breath | |
In search of a certain st john the gambler | |
Stumbling to her death | |
She heard his laughter right down from the mountains | |
And danced with her mother' s tears | |
To a funeral drawn of calico | |
' neath the cross of twenty years | |
To a funeral drawn of calico | |
' neath the cross of twenty years |