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Joan Baez
Joan Baez


Информация
Настоящее имя Joan Chandos Baez
Дата рождения 9 января 1941 г.
Откуда Staten Island, New York City, New York United States
Жанры Folk
Folk-Rock
Годы 1958—н.в.
Лейблы Virgin Records
Columbia Records
Vanguard Records
A&M Records
E1 Music
См. также Indigo Girls
Mary Chapin Carpenter
Bob Dylan
Grateful Dead
Steve Earle
Jackson Browne
Judy Collins
Donovan
Mimi Fariña
Janis Ian
Odetta
Pete Seeger
Paul Simon
Rocker T
Dar Williams
Сайт Website



Альбом Joan Baez


Farewell, Angelina (1965)
1965
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall (Bonus tracks on 2002 reissue:)
12.
13.
14.
. . .


Farewell, Angelina
The bells of the crown
Are being stolen by bandits
I must follow the sound.
The triangle tingles
and the trumpets play slow.
Farewell, Angelina
the sky is on fire
and I must go.

There's no need for anger
There's no need for blame.
There's nothing to prove
Everything's still the same.
Just a table standing empty
by the edge of the sea means
Farewell, Angelina
the sky is trembling
and I must leave.

The jack and the queen
have forsake the courtyard.
Fifty-two gypsies
now file past the guards
In the space where the deuce
and the ace once ran wild
Farewell, Angelina
the sky is falling
I'll see you in a while.

See the cross-eyed pirates sitting
perched in the sun
shooting tin cans
with a sawed-off shotgun.
And the neighobrs they clap
and they cheer with each blast.
Farewell, Angelina
the sky's changing color
and I must leave fast

King Kong, little elves
on the rooftops they dance
Valentino-type tangos
while the makeup man's hands
shut the eyes of the dead
not to embarrass anyone.
But Farewell, Angelina
the sky's embarrassed
and I must be gone.

The machine guns are roaring
the puppets heave rocks
and fiends nail time bombs
to the hands of the clocks.
Call me any name you like
I will never deny it,
But Farewell, Angelina
the sky is erupting
I must go where it's quiet.

. . .


Perhaps it's the colour of the sun cut flat
And covering the crossroads I'm standing at,
Or maybe it's the weather or something like that,
But Daddy, you been on my mind.

I don't mean trouble, please don't put me down, don't get upset,
I am not pleading or saying, "I can't forget you."
I do not walk the floor bowed down and bent,
But yet, Daddy, you been on my mind.

Even though my mind is hazy and my thoughts they might be narrow,
Where you been don't bother me nor bring me down in sorrow.
It don't even matter who you're waking with tomorrow,
Daddy, you're just on my mind.

I am not asking you to say words like "yes" or "no,"
Please understand me, I 'm not calling for you to go.
I'm just breathing to myself, pretending not that I don't know,
That Daddy, you been on my mind.

When you wake up in the morning, baby, look inside your mirror.
Oh you know I won't be next to you, you know I won't be near.
I'd just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear
As someone who has had you on her mind.
As someone who has had you on her mind

. . .


You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last.
But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast.
Yonder stands your orphan with his gun,
Crying like a fire in the sun.
Look out the saints are comin' through
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense.
Take what you have gathered from coincidence.
The empty-handed painter from your streets
Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets.
This sky, too, is folding under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home.
All your reindeer armies, are all going home.
The lover who just walked out your door
Has taken all his blankets from the floor.
The carpet, too, is moving under you
And it's all over now, Baby Blue.

Leave your stepping stones behind you, something calls for you.
Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you.
The vagabond who's rapping at your door
Is standing in the clothes that you once wore.
Strike another match, go start anew
And it's all over now, Baby Blue
Oh, it's all over now, Baby Blue.

. . .


The wild mountain thyme Francis McPeake

For the summertime is comming.
And the leaves are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Blooms around the purple heather

Chorus:

. . .


Come all of you cowboys all over this land
I'll sing you the law of the Ranger's command.

To hold a six-shooter and never to run
As long as there's bullets in both of your guns.

I met a fair maiden whose name I don't know
I asked her to the round-up with me would she go.

She said she'd go with me to the cold round-up
And drink that hard liquor from a cold bitter cup.

We started for the round-up in the fall of the year
Expecting to get there with a herd of fat steer.

When the rustlers broke on us in the dead hour of night
She rose from her warm bed a battle to fight.
She rose from her warm bed with a gun in each hand
Saying, "Come all you cowboys, and fight for your land."

Come all of you cowboys, and don't ever run
As long as there's bullets in both of your guns.

. . .


Yellow is the color of my true love's hair
In the morning, when we rise, In the morning, when we rise
That's the time
That's the time
I love the best

Green is the color of the sparkling corn
In the morning, when we rise, In the morning, when we rise
That's the time
That's the time
I love the best

Blue is the color of the sky
In the morning, when we rise, In the morning, when we rise
That's the time
That's the time
I love the best

Mellow is the feeling that I get
When I see her, uhh-hmm, When I see her, oh yeah
That's the time
That's the time
I love the best

Freedom is a word I rarely use
Without thinking, oh yeah, Without thinking, hm-m
Of the time
Of the time
When I've been loved

Yellow is the color of my true love's hair
In the morning, when we rise, In the morning, when we rise
That's the time
That's the time
I love the best

. . .


How many times have you heard someone say
"If I had his money, I could do things my way?"
Little they know that it's so hard to find
One rich man in a hundred with a satisfied mind.

Once I was waitin' for fortune and fame
Everything that I dreamed for to get a start in life's game
Suddenly it happened, I lost every dime
But I'm richer by far with a satisfied mind

Money can't buy back your youth when you're old
Or a friend when you're lonely, or a love that's grown cold
The wealthiest person is a pauper at times
Compared to the man with a satisfied mind

When my life is ended, my time has run out
My trials and my loved ones, I'll leave them no doubt
But one thing's for certain, when it comes my time
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind
I'll leave this old world with a satisfied mind

. . .


Oh, Mary was a maiden
When the birds began to sing.
She was sweeter than the blooming rose
So early in the spring.
Her thoughts were gay and happy
And the morning gay and fine,
For her lover was a river boy
From the river in the pines.

Now Charlie, he got married
To his Mary in the spring
When the trees were budding early
And the birds began to sing.
But early in the autumn
When the fruit is in the wine,
I'll return to you, my darling
From the river in the pines.

It was early in the morning
In Wisconsin's dreary clime
When he rode the fatal rapids
For that last and fatal time.
They found his body lying
On the rocky shore below
Where the silent water ripples
And the whispering cedars blow.

Now every raft of lumber
That comes down the Chippewa,
There's a lonely grave that's
Visited by drivers on their way
They plant wild flowers upon it
In the morning fair and fine.
'Tis the grave of two young lovers
From the river in the pines

. . .


Que sont mes amis devenus
Que j'avais de si près tenus
Et tant aimés
Ils ont été trop clairsemés
Je crois le vent les a ôtés
L'amour est morte
Ce sont amis que vent emporte
Et il ventait devant ma porte
Les emporta

Avec le temps qu'arbres défeuille
Quand il ne reste en branche feuille
Qui n'aille à terre
Avec pauvreté qui m'atterre
Qui de partout me fait la guerre
L'amour est morte
Ne convient pas que vous raconte
Comment je me suis mis à honte
En quelle manière

Que sont mes amis devenus
Que j'avais de si près tenus
Et tant aimés
Ils ont été trop clairsemés
Je crois le vent les a ôtés
L'amour est morte
Ce sont amis que vent emporte
Et il ventait devant ma porte
Les emporta

Pauvre sens et pauvre mémoire
M'a Dieu donné le roi de gloire
Et pauvre rente
Et droit au cul quand bise vente
Le vent me vient le vent m'évente
L'amour est morte
Le mal ne sait pas seul venir
Tout ce qui m'était à venir
M'est avenu
M'est avenu

. . .


Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind,
Wo sind sie geblieben?
Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind,
Was ist geschehen?
Sag mir, wo die Blumen sind,
Mädchen pflückten sie geschwind.

Wann wird man je verstehen,
wann wird man je verstehen?

Sag mir, wo die Mädchen sind,
wo sind sie geblieben.
Sag mir, wo die Mädchen sind,
was ist geschehen?
Sag mir, wo die Mädchen sind,
Männer nahmen sie geschwind.
Wann wird man je verstehen,
wann wird man je verstehen?

Sag mir, wo die Männer sind
Wo sind sie geblieben?
Sag mir, wo die Männer sind
was ist geschehen?
Sag mir, wo die Männer sind,
zogen fort,der Krieg beginnt.

Wann wird man je verstehen,
wann wird man je verstehen?

Und sag, wo die Soldaten sind
Wo sind sie geblieben?
Sag, wo die Soldaten sind
was ist geschehen?
Sag, wo die Soldaten sind
über Gräbern weht der Wind.
Wann wird man je verstehen,
wann wird man je verstehen?

Sag mir, wo die Gräber sind,
wo sind sie geblieben?
Sag mir, wo die Gräber sind
was ist geschehen?
Sag mir, wo die Gräber sind,
Blumen blühen im Sommerwind
Wann wird man je verstehen,
wann wird man je verstehen?

Und sag mir wo die Blumen sind
wo sind sie geblieben?
Sag mir wo die Blumen sind
was ist geschehen?
Sag mir wo die Blumen sind,
Mädchen pflückten sie geschwind
Wann wird man je verstehen,
wann wird man je verstehen?

. . .


Oh, where have you been, my blue eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my darling young one?
I've stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I've walked and I've crawled on six crooked highways
I've stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I've been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I've been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a gonna fall

Oh, what did you see, my blue eyed son?
Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin'
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a bleedin'
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a gonna fall

And what did you hear, my blue eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin'
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
Heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a blazin'
Heard ten thousand whisperin' and nobody listenin'
Heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin'
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a gonna fall

Oh, who did you meet, my blue eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded with hatred
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a gonna fall

Oh, what'll you do now, my blue eyed son?
Oh, what'll you do now, my darling young one?
I'm a goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a fallin'
I'll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I'll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my song well before I start singin'
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a gonna fall

. . .


ONE TOO MANY MORNINGS
words and music Bob Dylan

Down the street the dogs are barkin'
And the day is a-gettin' dark.
As the night comes in a-fallin',
The dogs 'll lose their bark.
An' the silent night will shatter
From the sounds inside my mind,
For I'm one too many mornings
And a thousand miles behind.

From the crossroads of my doorstep,
My eyes they start to fade,
As I turn my head back to the room
Where my love and I have laid.
An' I gaze back to the street,
The sidewalk and the sign,
And I'm one too many mornings
An' a thousand miles behind.

It's a restless hungry feeling
That don't mean no one no good,
When ev'rything I'm a-sayin'
You can say it just as good.
You're right from your side,
I'm right from mine.
We're both just too many mornings
An' a thousand miles behind.

. . .


On the banks of the river, where the willows hang down,
Where the wild birds all warble with a low moaning sound,
Down in the hollow where the water runs cold,
It's there I *have listened to the lies that you told.
(*first)

Now I lie on my bed and I see your sweet face.
The past I remember, time cannot erase.
(The) letters you wrote me were written in shame,
And I know that your conscience still echos my *pain.
(*name)

Now the nights are so long, my sorrow runs deep.
Nothing is worse than a night without sleep.
I walk out alone, I look at the sky,
Too *empty to sing, too **lonesome to cry.
(*lonesome) (**empty)

(Now) if the ladies were blackbirds and the ladies were thrushes,
I'd lie there for hours in the chilly cold marshes.
If the ladies were squirrels with (them) high bushy tails,
I'd fill up my shotgun with rock salt and nails.

. . .


The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
Neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall cross my true love and I

I lean'd my back against an oak,
Thinking it was a mighty tree.
But first it bent and then it broke,
So did my love prove false to me.

I put my hand in some soft bush
Thinking the sweetest flow'r to find.
I prick'd my finger to the bone
And left the sweetest flow'r behind.

O love is handsome and love is kind,
Gay as a jewel when it is new
But love grows old and waxes cold
And fades away like the morning dew.

The water is wide, I cannot get o'er
Neither have I wings to fly.
Give me a boat that can carry two
And both shall cross my true love and I

. . .


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