Talking Back To The Night Lyrics

	作词 : Jennings, Winwood
	High above the heat of a summer New York street
	An out-of-work musician plays a solo saxophone
	He's a preacher and a teacher
	And he stands up all alone
	Stranded in the dark of a vision in the park
	A poet in his madness tries to find another line
	And he's losing and he's using
	And he says he's doing fine
	And they look from such a height
	That somehow it's all right
	They're talking back to the night
	It's all that they can do
	Talking back to the night
	It's how they make it through
	If you listen you can hear them
	Their voices draw you near them
	They're talking back to the night for you
	Something seems to take every dime the man can make
	His dream is getting smaller and he wonders where to turn
	And he's trying hard to make it
	And he's trying not to burn
	Woman never minds, pulls the shade and draws the blinds
	She takes him in the darkness where the loneliest can feed
	She gives him all she has to
	And it's no more than he needs

	zuo ci : Jennings, Winwood
	High above the heat of a summer New York street
	An outofwork musician plays a solo saxophone
	He' s a preacher and a teacher
	And he stands up all alone
	Stranded in the dark of a vision in the park
	A poet in his madness tries to find another line
	And he' s losing and he' s using
	And he says he' s doing fine
	And they look from such a height
	That somehow it' s all right
	They' re talking back to the night
	It' s all that they can do
	Talking back to the night
	It' s how they make it through
	If you listen you can hear them
	Their voices draw you near them
	They' re talking back to the night for you
	Something seems to take every dime the man can make
	His dream is getting smaller and he wonders where to turn
	And he' s trying hard to make it
	And he' s trying not to burn
	Woman never minds, pulls the shade and draws the blinds
	She takes him in the darkness where the loneliest can feed
	She gives him all she has to
	And it' s no more than he needs

	zuò cí : Jennings, Winwood
	High above the heat of a summer New York street
	An outofwork musician plays a solo saxophone
	He' s a preacher and a teacher
	And he stands up all alone
	Stranded in the dark of a vision in the park
	A poet in his madness tries to find another line
	And he' s losing and he' s using
	And he says he' s doing fine
	And they look from such a height
	That somehow it' s all right
	They' re talking back to the night
	It' s all that they can do
	Talking back to the night
	It' s how they make it through
	If you listen you can hear them
	Their voices draw you near them
	They' re talking back to the night for you
	Something seems to take every dime the man can make
	His dream is getting smaller and he wonders where to turn
	And he' s trying hard to make it
	And he' s trying not to burn
	Woman never minds, pulls the shade and draws the blinds
	She takes him in the darkness where the loneliest can feed
	She gives him all she has to
	And it' s no more than he needs

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