| Song | The Modern Adventures Of Plato, Diogenes And Freud |
| Artist | Blood, Sweat & Tears |
| Album | Child Is Father To The Man |
| 作词 : Kooper | |
| (Al Kooper) | |
| Father of my morning, | |
| Once my child to the night | |
| I see that you have minds to cop | |
| And I can only watch the sickened sorrow | |
| Little do you know of the progressions that you teach the people that you reach are tired of livin' in a world of elastic towers dance with them and sing a song of changes and talk with them of life and all its dangers surround yourself with now familiar strangers who kiss and who hug and eventually mug you of your time | |
| And the clock on the wall is a bore as you wander past the door and find him lying on the floor as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile | |
| You cannot ever picture me you know me by my thoughts | |
| A file for your travelogue oblivious to the night, the fog around you | |
| The germs they are ridiculous they bother you at night the blood that rushes to your brain the ticket on the plane you're never catching the price you pay exclusive of your taxes to chop you up inside with tiny axes the girl looks up to you from floors she waxes and speaks to your belt with tears among her eyes and the clock on the wall is a bore as you wander past the door and find him lying on the floor as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile | |
| The metaphysic wrinkles in the face of what you face | |
| Are hidden by the fake-up man who lives inside the sterno can beside you | |
| Now climb ye to the mountains as the sun is almost gone escaping from your other selves your brothers hide among the shelves inside you the games that people play can only bore you but only those that know you don't ignore you how many times have | |
| I come there to restore you | |
| And caught you lying on the couch with father time and the clock on the wall is a bore as you wander past the door and find him lying on the floor as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile |
| zuò cí : Kooper | |
| Al Kooper | |
| Father of my morning, | |
| Once my child to the night | |
| I see that you have minds to cop | |
| And I can only watch the sickened sorrow | |
| Little do you know of the progressions that you teach the people that you reach are tired of livin' in a world of elastic towers dance with them and sing a song of changes and talk with them of life and all its dangers surround yourself with now familiar strangers who kiss and who hug and eventually mug you of your time | |
| And the clock on the wall is a bore as you wander past the door and find him lying on the floor as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile | |
| You cannot ever picture me you know me by my thoughts | |
| A file for your travelogue oblivious to the night, the fog around you | |
| The germs they are ridiculous they bother you at night the blood that rushes to your brain the ticket on the plane you' re never catching the price you pay exclusive of your taxes to chop you up inside with tiny axes the girl looks up to you from floors she waxes and speaks to your belt with tears among her eyes and the clock on the wall is a bore as you wander past the door and find him lying on the floor as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile | |
| The metaphysic wrinkles in the face of what you face | |
| Are hidden by the fakeup man who lives inside the sterno can beside you | |
| Now climb ye to the mountains as the sun is almost gone escaping from your other selves your brothers hide among the shelves inside you the games that people play can only bore you but only those that know you don' t ignore you how many times have | |
| I come there to restore you | |
| And caught you lying on the couch with father time and the clock on the wall is a bore as you wander past the door and find him lying on the floor as he begs you for some more, you frozen smile |