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Victoria Williams




Альбом Victoria Williams



1990
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
On Time
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
Veiux Amis
11.
Weeds
12.
Lift Him Up
. . .


Willows were swaying
The water was rippling
Froggies were singing
Along with the lapping at the bank

We have the moon to thank
For this lovely scene
We might never have seen
If it hadn't have been for the moon

Why look at that moon
Oh way up high seeing everything
Oh yes, days go by, why look at that moon
Why, why, why look at the moon
Why, why, why look at the moon

Sitting in the desert beneath the lonesome sky
Who my oh my, it would be
If there'd never been above that faithful little orb
The one that has beheld true love through history

Why must it start
Why must lovers part
Why does the cheating go on
Why do hearts hearts turn to stone

Why look at that moon
Oh way up high seeing everything
Oh yes, days go by, why look at that moon
Why, why, why look at the moon
Why, why, why look at the moon

Why look at that moon
Ain't it grand
Why look at that moon
Helps me understand
Why look at that moon
Inspirator of many a tune
Why look at that...

. . .


Little bitty baby
Mom and daddy died
Little bitty baby
Went and crawled outside
Boogieman found her
Took her to the woods
He raised up little baby
He raised her up real good

Now you talk so dirty about the Boogieman
Don't you talk so dirty about him
Yes I hear you talking real dirty now
Don't you talk so dirty about the Boogieman

Baby grew up
The Boogieman grew old
The baby turned a beauty
But no one ever told her
The Boogieman he died
The baby she cried
Baby rolled the Boogieman
Up on his side

Now you talk so dirty about the Boogieman
Don't you talk so dirty about him
Yes I hear you talking real dirty now
Don't you talk so dirty about the Boogieman

Baby rolled the Boogieman
Down to the river
There she rolled him in
Long come serpent Sam
He took the beauty
He took her to the city
There he done her wrong
Oh he done her wrong
Beauty had a baby
She didn't know what to do
She took the little baby
And they went out to the woods

. . .


The clothes hung out on the line for weeks on end
And it'd be just about time to take them in
It'd rain again

I felt that way when I was looking for a pencil or a pen
Now when the wind blows I can feel it drying my ancestors' clothes

A day goes by and year by year we turn and say what have we here

Swing little girl, swing high
And don't ever look to the ground
If you're looking for rainbows look up to the sky
You'll never see rainbows if you're looking down

Life can be dreary, it's never the same
Some days it's sunshine and some days it's rain

Swing little girl, swing high
And don't ever look to the ground
If you're looking for rainbows look up to the sky
And never, oh never, look down

If it's really all that easy...
Why didn't I see...?

. . .


Tarbelly stood in the door
Eyes looking out
Body like a statue
Mouth drooling, like a leaky spout

Looking for something from another day
A day when she could ask him and he would want to play
Thump, thump, down the stairs he came
She heard him coming but she stood there just the same
Featherfoot walked right past Tarbelly into the kitchen
Made and ate three sandwiches, drunk a pot of coffee, cut his toenails, made three phone calls and answered six

And all the while Tarbelly stood in the door
Eyes looking out
Body like a statue
Mouth drooling, like a leaky spout

Feathfoot got to thinking he'd like to go out
But Tarbelly stood there in the way
And he thought and he thought and he thought of a game he used to play in his youth, called swing the statue
And he took Tarbelly by the ribs, and he carried her out into the yard
And round and round and round he swung
And then he let her fly, way up high, over the hills she went
And where she stopped no one can say
You can't chase a shadow across a day
No you can't get love without giving it away

. . .

On Time

[Нет текста]

. . .


Kumbaya, my lord

On the banks of old Lake Bistineau
Beneath the cypress and the moss
We hammered and we nailed
To build a raft to get across
And late at night by the fire
We sang kumbaya
And the spirit, the holy spirit was flowing...

Twilight time, New York City
Descending subway stairs
A man whistling out of tune
Paid a dollar for my fare
And we got on the same train going uptown down the tracks
And we sang out of tune to the clackity clack clack
And the spirit, the holy spirit was flowing...

I have seen it on a mountaintop
I have felt it beneath stars
I have felt it in a churchyard and even in some bars
It will make you laugh, make you cry, make your heart go ping
Yeah the spirit, holy spirit will make you shout and want to sing
That the spirit, holy spirit is flowing...

Kumbaya, my lord

. . .


Sister got bit by a copperhead snake in the woods behind the house
Nobody was home so I grabbed her foot and sucked that poison out
Sister got better in a month or so when the swelling it went down
And I'd started off my teenage years with poison in my mouth

We were too young to be hippies
Missed out on the love
Learned from the teens of the late-70s in the summer of the drugs

Mama and daddy could never understand that life was never dull
Their idea of a rollicking time was a kitchen taffy pull
Acid, grass, downs and speed, junk those days were made of
How could they suspect those kids were monsters beneath their makeup

We were too young to be hippies
Missed out on the love
Learned from the teens of the late-70s in the summer of the drugs

To boys and girls in every town
The sandman spread his sand around
Now we are just waking up from the summer of drugs

Mamas and daddies' too shy to talk about those birds and bees
The integrated schools had stopped, the facts of life were these
Girls and boys went away, came back empty after a weekend
And talk on telephones consisted of hushed voices speaking

. . .


I'm gonna live my life
Like everyday's the last
Without a simple goodbye
It all goes by so fast
And now that you're gone
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now

Can I open my eyes
And see for the first time
I've let go of you like
A child letting go of his kite

There it goes
Up in the sky
There it goes
Beyond the clouds
For no reason why
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now

Can I look back in vain
And see you standing there
When all that remains
Is just an empty chair
And now that you're gone
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now

. . .


W-wob, w-wobbling
Wobbling in the best part of spring
Until he gets his wings to fly
The bird does nothing but wobble and cry in the nest

Wobbling, wobbling

Robin red-breast sits in the nest
With a mouth open wide
Waiting for worms, hopefully yearning
To get out of the nest and fly

But now he's wobbling, wobbling
He's wobbling ‘til he learns to fly
Wobbling ‘til he learns why

Oh what a pretty bird

Across the sky he flies
Wintertime comes, he says bye-bye
He goes to where he's happy and warm
He can fly off McDonald's farm

It's wide open sky from now on
It's wide...he can try, he knows how from now on

. . .

Veiux Amis

[Нет текста]

. . .

Weeds

[Нет текста]

. . .

Lift Him Up

[Нет текста]

. . .


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