Morningside - Live 歌词

	Lyrics：Neil Diamond Music：Neil Diamond
	Morningside
	The old man died
	And no one cried
	They simply turned away
	And when he died
	He left a table made of nails and pride
	And with his hands, he carved these words inside
	'For my childen'
	Morning light
	Morning bright
	I spent the night
	With dreams that make you weep
	Morning time
	Wash away the sadness from these eyes of mine
	For I recall the words an old man signed
	'For my children'
	And the legs were shaped with his hands
	And the top made of oaken wood
	And the children that sat around his table
	Touched it with their laughter
	Ah, and that was good
	Morningside
	An old man died
	And no one cried
	He surely died alone
	And truth is sad
	For not a children would claim
	the gift he had
	The words he carved
	became his epitaph
	'For my children'

	Lyrics: Neil Diamond Music: Neil Diamond
	Morningside
	The old man died
	And no one cried
	They simply turned away
	And when he died
	He left a table made of nails and pride
	And with his hands, he carved these words inside
	' For my childen'
	Morning light
	Morning bright
	I spent the night
	With dreams that make you weep
	Morning time
	Wash away the sadness from these eyes of mine
	For I recall the words an old man signed
	' For my children'
	And the legs were shaped with his hands
	And the top made of oaken wood
	And the children that sat around his table
	Touched it with their laughter
	Ah, and that was good
	Morningside
	An old man died
	And no one cried
	He surely died alone
	And truth is sad
	For not a children would claim
	the gift he had
	The words he carved
	became his epitaph
	' For my children'

	Lyrics: Neil Diamond Music: Neil Diamond
	Morningside
	The old man died
	And no one cried
	They simply turned away
	And when he died
	He left a table made of nails and pride
	And with his hands, he carved these words inside
	' For my childen'
	Morning light
	Morning bright
	I spent the night
	With dreams that make you weep
	Morning time
	Wash away the sadness from these eyes of mine
	For I recall the words an old man signed
	' For my children'
	And the legs were shaped with his hands
	And the top made of oaken wood
	And the children that sat around his table
	Touched it with their laughter
	Ah, and that was good
	Morningside
	An old man died
	And no one cried
	He surely died alone
	And truth is sad
	For not a children would claim
	the gift he had
	The words he carved
	became his epitaph
	' For my children'

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