| 歌曲 | Of a Friday Night |
| 歌手 | Anaïs Mitchell |
| 专辑 | The Brightness |
| 作曲 : Mitchell | |
| just across from the hospital | |
| still in sight of the red lights | |
| s couple blocks from the orthodox church | |
| that's where the old poet lived | |
| in his eyeglasses and his necktie | |
| at the windows looking down | |
| on the young man passing by | |
| on the fullness of the town | |
| full of them good time gamblers | |
| full of their restless wives | |
| full of them midnight writers | |
| out in the quarter on a Friday night | |
| out in the brightness of a Friday night | |
| and the big horns blowed and the pianos played | |
| and the music rose to the old man's ears | |
| I guess those were the olden days | |
| I guess those were the golden years | |
| and now the town is empty | |
| empty as a mirror | |
| empty as the harbor and the barber's chair | |
| where did the old poet go? | |
| I asked around | |
| nobody knows | |
| maybe I came too early | |
| maybe I came too late | |
| I'm waiting in the shadows of the scaffolds | |
| of the old cafés where you told me to wait | |
| and I've got this lingering feeling | |
| it's like I've slipped between | |
| finger of the century | |
| I know you know what I mean | |
| I'll be a good time gambler | |
| I'll be a restless wife | |
| I'll be a midnight writer | |
| out in the quarter on a Friday night | |
| call me good time gambler | |
| call me a restless wife | |
| call me a midnight writer | |
| out in the quarter on a Friday night | |
| out in the brightness of a Friday night | |
| call me the brightness of a Friday night |
| zuò qǔ : Mitchell | |
| just across from the hospital | |
| still in sight of the red lights | |
| s couple blocks from the orthodox church | |
| that' s where the old poet lived | |
| in his eyeglasses and his necktie | |
| at the windows looking down | |
| on the young man passing by | |
| on the fullness of the town | |
| full of them good time gamblers | |
| full of their restless wives | |
| full of them midnight writers | |
| out in the quarter on a Friday night | |
| out in the brightness of a Friday night | |
| and the big horns blowed and the pianos played | |
| and the music rose to the old man' s ears | |
| I guess those were the olden days | |
| I guess those were the golden years | |
| and now the town is empty | |
| empty as a mirror | |
| empty as the harbor and the barber' s chair | |
| where did the old poet go? | |
| I asked around | |
| nobody knows | |
| maybe I came too early | |
| maybe I came too late | |
| I' m waiting in the shadows of the scaffolds | |
| of the old café s where you told me to wait | |
| and I' ve got this lingering feeling | |
| it' s like I' ve slipped between | |
| finger of the century | |
| I know you know what I mean | |
| I' ll be a good time gambler | |
| I' ll be a restless wife | |
| I' ll be a midnight writer | |
| out in the quarter on a Friday night | |
| call me good time gambler | |
| call me a restless wife | |
| call me a midnight writer | |
| out in the quarter on a Friday night | |
| out in the brightness of a Friday night | |
| call me the brightness of a Friday night |