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Traffic




Альбом Traffic



1969
1.
2.
3.
4.
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6.
7.
8.
9.
Giving to You
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
Am I What I Was or Am I What I Am
. . .


So you think your having good times
With the boy that you just met
Kicking sand from beach to beach
Your clothes all soaking wet
But if you look around and see
A shadow on the run
Don't be too upset because its just a paper sun

Ahh Paper Sun, Ahh Paper Sun

In the room where you've been sleeping
All your clothes all thrown about
Cigarettes burn window sills
Your meter's all run out
But then again its nothing
You just split when day is done
Pitching lips to nowhere, hung up on the paper sun

Standing in the cool of my room
Fresh cut flowers give me sweet perfume
Too much sun will burn!

When you're feeling tired and lonely
You see people going home
You can't make the train fare
Or the six pence for the phone
And icicles your crying
From your cheek have just begun
Dont be sad, good times are had
Beneath the paper sun

Daylight breaks while you sleep on the sand
A seagull is stealing the ring from your hand
The boy who had given you so much fun
Has left you so cold in the paper sun

. . .


Dealer (Capaldi)

As the evening sun goes down
The Dealer shuffles into town
Makes a note of what's a float
And spinning 'round he'll cut your throat
In the time it takes to heal
The dealer's made another deal
When he plays he plays for keeps
And sweeps the spinning roulette wheel
Dealer, Dealer

Like the mighty ocean's roar
He gets all his share and more
Mexican right to the core and very proud
He'll get even with the score
Leave your wife a weeping widow on the shore

Between the desert and the dove
Money is his only love
Feeling nothing deep inside
His mind is governed by his pride
In a smoky little room
Shadows moving in the gloom
Someone turns a running flush
And breaks the deathly quiet hush
Dealer, Dealer
------------------------------------------------------------------------
F.S. Music Ltd (PRS) & Island Music Ltd. (PRS)
All rights on behalf of F.S. Music Ltd. admin by
Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp (BMI)

. . .


Yesterday I was a young boy
Searching for my way
Not knowing what I wanted
Living life from day to day
'Till you came along
There was nothing but an empty space and a pain

Feels like Coloured Rain
Tastes like Coloured Rain


Bring on Coloured Rain
Yeah!

I can see a sail of changing
Filling with surprise
United with a feeling
Bringing love into my eyes
Till you came along
there was nothing but an empty space and a pain

. . .


I looked to the skyWhere an elephant's eyeWas looking at meFrom a bubblegum treeAnd all that I knewThe hole in my shoeWas letting in water (letting in water)
I walked through a field That just wasnt realWhere 100 tin soldiersWould shoot at my shoulderAnd all that I knewThe hole in my shoeWas letting in water (letting in water)

(I climbed on the back of a giant albatrossWhich flew through a crack in the cloudTo a place where happiness reigned all year roundWhere music played ever so loudly)
I started to fall And suddenly wokeAnd the dew on the grassIt stuck to my coatAnd all that I knewThe hole in my shoeWas letting in water (letting in water)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

. . .


I'm looking for a girl who has no face
She has no name, or number
And so I search within his lonely place
Knowing that I won't find her
Well, I can't stop this feeling deep in inside me
Ruling my mind

I feel no sound


Don't know where I'm bound

The scenery is all the same to me
Nothing has changed or faded
I'm a part of it, some part of me
Painted cool green, and shaded
So, try to find myself must be the only way
To feel free

. . .


You ride on the swing in and out of the bars
Capturing moments of life in a jar
Playing with children, acting as stars
Guiding your visions to heaven and heaven is in your mind


Take extra care not to lose what up feel
The apple you're eating is simple and real
Water the flowers that grow at you heel
guiding your visions to heaven and heaven is in your mind

. . .


House for Everyone (Mason)

My bed is made of candy floss, the house is made of cheese
It's lit by lots of glow-worms; if I'm wrong correct me please.
The village is a pop-up book, the people wooden dolls.
The roads are made of treacle things, it's time that I moved on.
Chorus:
My home is half a walnut shell, the journey will be long
So I filled the whole with peppermints and creamy pink blanc-mange.
I sailed away for fifteen days, it never once got dark
And came upon two large houses set out in a park.
Verse:
On the door of one was truth, on the other door was lies.
Which one should I enter thru? I really must decide
The door of lies had lots of flowers growing round outside
But looking close I noticed it was crumbling inside
Verse:
The door of truth was very plain, but stood up very strong,
And when I entered thru its door I knew I wasn't wrong.

. . .


(Winwood/Capaldi)

So many people with nothing to do
Hundreds of buildings that block out my view
Watched by a tramp with a hole in his shoe
Standing alone on the corner

He's thinking that work is all a big joke
While he looks in the gutter for something to smoke
Two hundred kids in one red minimoke
Scream down the street fully loaded

Day in the city
Oh what a pity
I could be in Berkshire where the poppies are so pretty
I could be in Berkshire where the poppies are so pretty
I wish that I was there
I wouldn't have a care

People like sardines
Packed in a can
Waiting for Christmas that's made in Japan
And I'm having trouble with my apple flan
Sat in the cafe on the corner

I walk through the green gates and into the park
Where murderers crawl after girls in the dark
Down by the shed I head a remark
I turned on but no one could hear me
------------------------------------------------------------------------
F.S. Music Ltd (PRS) & Island Music Ltd. (PRS)
All rights on behalf of F.S. Music Ltd. admin by
Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp (BMI)

. . .

Giving to You

[Нет текста]

. . .


Do yourself a favorWake up to your mindLife is what you make itYou see but still your blindGet yourself together, give before you takeYou'll find out the hard waySoon you're going to break
Smiling Phases, going placesEven when they bust youKeep on smiling through and throughAnd you'll be amazed at the gaze on their facesAs they sentence you

You don't need a lawyerWhen you're in a fixSomeone gets the pay offYou're friends are full of tricksHow could you love somethingThat you just can't buy?Own up to the truth girlYour mother's gone on by
Your companion, brings you flowersYou just hang him upAnd keep him waiting there for hoursAnd you should just see the look on his face As you slide down the rail

. . .


Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune
Something to make us all happy
Do anything take us out of this gloom
Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy
You are the one who can make us all laugh
But doing that you break out in tears
Please don't be sad if it was a straight mind you had
We wouldn't have known you all these years

Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune
Something to make us all happy
Do anything take us out of this gloom
Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy
You are the one who can make us all laugh
But doing that you break out in tears
Please don't be sad if it was a straight mind you had
We wouldn't have known you all these years

Dear Mister Fantasy play us a tune
Something to make us all happy
Do anything take us out of this gloom
Sing a song, play guitar, make it snappy
You are the one who can make us all laugh
But doing that you break out in tears
Please don't be sad if it was a straight mind you had
We wouldn't have known you all these years

. . .


(this, of course, is the last verse from "paper sun".)
Daylight breaks while you sleep on the sand
A seagull is stealing the ring from your hand


The boy who had given you so much fun
Has left you so cold in the paper sun

. . .


Everything really is stupidly simple
And yet all around is utter confusion
Fairy tales written may help you to see it
Do you understand about Lewis's Alice?
We fit all our lives into regular patterns
All that we really know is that we're really living

(spoken:
The man that seeks the world, his wisdom seeks to know his mind
And knowing where his feet should walk, and when he should or should not
talk And have a friend to find
Don't look around to find the sound that's right beneath your feet
The hermit sits inside his cave and seeks to know his mind
Staring into empty space and seeing things in people's faces others cannot
find
Don't look around to find the sound that's right beneath your feet)

We've nothing to hide so why try to hide it?
I know there are some but they're screwed up inside
If you need a reason for all this I'm singing
It's simpleness really that gives it its meaning

. . .


(Dave Mason)

Seems that I had just to stay
the birds have flown, the sky's turned gray
The bees have ruffled by the flowers
Plastic plants that never die and I
Hope they never find me here
I walked upon synthetic grass where little people said
"Don't ask about the field where you once played
Atomic Factories have replaced" and I
hope they never find me here
The horse I ride has lost a shoe, the buttercups are dry
the car I drive has broken down and the blacksmith trade is dying
Meals I eat have changed into a concentrated vacuum
THe air has come to be as one
Time to leave has just begun
THe world is waiting its a fact
to stage the last and final act and
Hope I never find me there
There
There....

. . .


Turn around every way, looking back another day
The race is on, I'm out to win, before I start I must begin

Here we go round in circles to nowhere
Mulberry bush just won't let me see
If I am lonely when I arrive there
Mulberry bush, will you shelter me when I am naked and cold?
Yet no one must see, oh they're looking at me
When I am straight I feel that my world is real

With people running round and round, bringing one another down


People running round and round, bringing one another down

Here we go round, I'm looking for someone
Mulberry bush is calling to me
Red lights and green ones, I can't be nervous
Mulberry bush, your bright eyes I see

Here we go round in circle to nowhere
Mulberry bush just won't let me see
If I am lonely when I arrive there
Mulberry bush, will you shelter me?

. . .

Am I What I Was or Am I What I Am

[Нет текста]

. . .


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