Song | Magdalene Lane |
Artist | Don McLean |
Album | Rearview Mirror |
作曲 : McLean | |
The angels are lost in the city of stars | |
the wise men are down on their knees. | |
And the fruitman of freeway will sell you his cars | |
when he's sure that you can't find the keys. | |
And the ladies on Magdalene lane | |
all worship the sun and the sand. | |
And the migrants who come can't complain | |
for this is their promised land. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
MGM studios can't make the nut | |
they're auctioning Dorothy's shoes. | |
Gable is gone, the good witch is a slut | |
and I've got the parking lot blues. | |
The wizard brought benzadrine smiles | |
and he never let Dorothy doze. | |
She died as she walked down the aisle | |
and all that remains is her clothes. | |
Over the rainbow a Kansas tornado | |
can twist up a little girlÂ's head. | |
Aunt Em's on relief and the tinman's a thief | |
and even the wizard can't wake the dead. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
The prophet has come to this kingdom of lights | |
but there's no one to listen or learn. | |
And the savior performs for the prophet's delight | |
while dissenters are banished or burned. | |
And the heretics beg to be heard | |
but the savior's on tour for the week. | |
Salvation is found in his word | |
if only he'd learn how to speak. | |
And Lincoln is laughing with Amos 'n' Andy | |
concerning the Great Civil War. | |
And Paul Revere sleeps with the worst looking creeps | |
while revolution's knocking at his door. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
Magdalene Lane is the red light domain | |
where everyone's soul is for sale. | |
A piece of your heart will do for a start | |
but you can send us the rest in the mail. | |
For we have our own families to feed | |
and we can't let them starve just for you. | |
Well, we'd rather not watch while you bleed | |
so come back in an hour when you're through. | |
It's just another city full of sorrow, | |
it makes no difference why I came. | |
I only know I'm leaving here tomorrow | |
and only the motel man knows my name. |
zuò qǔ : McLean | |
The angels are lost in the city of stars | |
the wise men are down on their knees. | |
And the fruitman of freeway will sell you his cars | |
when he' s sure that you can' t find the keys. | |
And the ladies on Magdalene lane | |
all worship the sun and the sand. | |
And the migrants who come can' t complain | |
for this is their promised land. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
MGM studios can' t make the nut | |
they' re auctioning Dorothy' s shoes. | |
Gable is gone, the good witch is a slut | |
and I' ve got the parking lot blues. | |
The wizard brought benzadrine smiles | |
and he never let Dorothy doze. | |
She died as she walked down the aisle | |
and all that remains is her clothes. | |
Over the rainbow a Kansas tornado | |
can twist up a little girl' s head. | |
Aunt Em' s on relief and the tinman' s a thief | |
and even the wizard can' t wake the dead. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
The prophet has come to this kingdom of lights | |
but there' s no one to listen or learn. | |
And the savior performs for the prophet' s delight | |
while dissenters are banished or burned. | |
And the heretics beg to be heard | |
but the savior' s on tour for the week. | |
Salvation is found in his word | |
if only he' d learn how to speak. | |
And Lincoln is laughing with Amos ' n' Andy | |
concerning the Great Civil War. | |
And Paul Revere sleeps with the worst looking creeps | |
while revolution' s knocking at his door. | |
La la la la la la la la la, | |
la la la la la la la. | |
Magdalene Lane is the red light domain | |
where everyone' s soul is for sale. | |
A piece of your heart will do for a start | |
but you can send us the rest in the mail. | |
For we have our own families to feed | |
and we can' t let them starve just for you. | |
Well, we' d rather not watch while you bleed | |
so come back in an hour when you' re through. | |
It' s just another city full of sorrow, | |
it makes no difference why I came. | |
I only know I' m leaving here tomorrow | |
and only the motel man knows my name. |