Song | Black-Throated Wind |
Artist | Grateful Dead |
Album | Rockin' the Rhein with the Grateful Dead [live] |
作词 : Barlow, Weir | |
Bringing me down, | |
I'm running aground | |
Blind in the light of the interstate cars. | |
Passing me by, | |
The busses and semis, | |
Plunging like stones from a slingshot on Mars. | |
But I'm here by the road, | |
Bound to the load | |
That I picked up in ten thousand cafes and bars. | |
Alone with the rush of the drivers who won't pick me up, | |
The highway, the moon, the clouds, and the stars. | |
The black-throated wind keeps on pouring in | |
With its words of a life where nothing is new. | |
Ah, Mother American Night, I'm lost from the light. | |
Ohhh, I'm drowning in you. | |
I left St. Louis, the City of Blues, | |
In the midst of a storm I'd rather forget. | |
I tried to pretend it came to an end | |
Cause you weren't the woman I thought I once met. | |
But I can't deny that times have gone by | |
When I never had doubts or thoughts of regret | |
And I was a man when all this began | |
Who wouldn't think twice about being there yet. | |
The black-throated wind keeps on pouring in. | |
And it speaks of a life that passes like dew. | |
It's forced me to see that you've done better by me, | |
Better by me than I've done by you. | |
What's to be found, racing around, | |
You carry your pain wherever you go. | |
Full of the blues and trying to lose | |
You ain't gonna learn what you don't want to know. | |
So I give you my eyes, and all of their lies | |
Please help them to learn as well as to see | |
Capture a glance and make it a dance | |
Of looking at you looking at me. | |
The black-throated wind keeps on pouring in | |
With its words of a lie that could almost be true. | |
Ah, Mother American Night, here comes the light. | |
I'm turning around, that's what I'm gonna do | |
Goin back home that's what I'm gonna do | |
Turnin' around, | |
That's what I'm gonna do | |
'Cause you've done better by me | |
Than I've done by you |
zuò cí : Barlow, Weir | |
Bringing me down, | |
I' m running aground | |
Blind in the light of the interstate cars. | |
Passing me by, | |
The busses and semis, | |
Plunging like stones from a slingshot on Mars. | |
But I' m here by the road, | |
Bound to the load | |
That I picked up in ten thousand cafes and bars. | |
Alone with the rush of the drivers who won' t pick me up, | |
The highway, the moon, the clouds, and the stars. | |
The blackthroated wind keeps on pouring in | |
With its words of a life where nothing is new. | |
Ah, Mother American Night, I' m lost from the light. | |
Ohhh, I' m drowning in you. | |
I left St. Louis, the City of Blues, | |
In the midst of a storm I' d rather forget. | |
I tried to pretend it came to an end | |
Cause you weren' t the woman I thought I once met. | |
But I can' t deny that times have gone by | |
When I never had doubts or thoughts of regret | |
And I was a man when all this began | |
Who wouldn' t think twice about being there yet. | |
The blackthroated wind keeps on pouring in. | |
And it speaks of a life that passes like dew. | |
It' s forced me to see that you' ve done better by me, | |
Better by me than I' ve done by you. | |
What' s to be found, racing around, | |
You carry your pain wherever you go. | |
Full of the blues and trying to lose | |
You ain' t gonna learn what you don' t want to know. | |
So I give you my eyes, and all of their lies | |
Please help them to learn as well as to see | |
Capture a glance and make it a dance | |
Of looking at you looking at me. | |
The blackthroated wind keeps on pouring in | |
With its words of a lie that could almost be true. | |
Ah, Mother American Night, here comes the light. | |
I' m turning around, that' s what I' m gonna do | |
Goin back home that' s what I' m gonna do | |
Turnin' around, | |
That' s what I' m gonna do | |
' Cause you' ve done better by me | |
Than I' ve done by you |