歌曲 | To Ramona |
歌手 | Bob Dylan |
专辑 | The Bootleg Series, Vol. 6: Bob Dylan Live 1964 - Concert at Philharmonic Hall |
作词 : Dylan | |
Ramona | |
Come closer | |
Shut softly your watery eyes | |
The pangs of your sadness | |
Shall pass as your senses will rise | |
The flowers of the city | |
Though breathlike | |
Get deathlike at times | |
And there’s no use in tryin’ | |
T’ deal with the dyin’ | |
Though I cannot explain that in lines | |
Your cracked country lips | |
I still wish to kiss | |
As to be under the strength of your skin | |
Your magnetic movements | |
Still capture the minutes I’m in | |
But it grieves my heart, love | |
To see you tryin’ to be a part of | |
A world that just don’t exist | |
It’s all just a dream, babe | |
A vacuum, a scheme, babe | |
That sucks you into feelin’ like this | |
I can see that your head | |
Has been twisted and fed | |
By worthless foam from the mouth | |
I can tell you are torn | |
Between stayin’ and returnin’ | |
On back to the South | |
You’ve been fooled into thinking | |
That the finishin’ end is at hand | |
Yet there’s no one to beat you | |
No one t’ defeat you | |
’Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad | |
I’ve heard you say many times | |
That you’re better ’n no one | |
And no one is better ’n you | |
If you really believe that | |
You know you got | |
Nothing to win and nothing to lose | |
From fixtures and forces and friends | |
Your sorrow does stem | |
That hype you and type you | |
Making you feel | |
That you must be exactly like them | |
I’d forever talk to you | |
But soon my words | |
They would turn into a meaningless ring | |
For deep in my heart | |
I know there is no help I can bring | |
Everything passes | |
Everything changes | |
Just do what you think you should do | |
And someday maybe | |
Who knows, baby | |
I’ll come and be cryin’ to you |
zuò cí : Dylan | |
Ramona | |
Come closer | |
Shut softly your watery eyes | |
The pangs of your sadness | |
Shall pass as your senses will rise | |
The flowers of the city | |
Though breathlike | |
Get deathlike at times | |
And there' s no use in tryin' | |
T' deal with the dyin' | |
Though I cannot explain that in lines | |
Your cracked country lips | |
I still wish to kiss | |
As to be under the strength of your skin | |
Your magnetic movements | |
Still capture the minutes I' m in | |
But it grieves my heart, love | |
To see you tryin' to be a part of | |
A world that just don' t exist | |
It' s all just a dream, babe | |
A vacuum, a scheme, babe | |
That sucks you into feelin' like this | |
I can see that your head | |
Has been twisted and fed | |
By worthless foam from the mouth | |
I can tell you are torn | |
Between stayin' and returnin' | |
On back to the South | |
You' ve been fooled into thinking | |
That the finishin' end is at hand | |
Yet there' s no one to beat you | |
No one t' defeat you | |
' Cept the thoughts of yourself feeling bad | |
I' ve heard you say many times | |
That you' re better ' n no one | |
And no one is better ' n you | |
If you really believe that | |
You know you got | |
Nothing to win and nothing to lose | |
From fixtures and forces and friends | |
Your sorrow does stem | |
That hype you and type you | |
Making you feel | |
That you must be exactly like them | |
I' d forever talk to you | |
But soon my words | |
They would turn into a meaningless ring | |
For deep in my heart | |
I know there is no help I can bring | |
Everything passes | |
Everything changes | |
Just do what you think you should do | |
And someday maybe | |
Who knows, baby | |
I' ll come and be cryin' to you |