Song | The Night That the Band Got the Wine |
Artist | Al Stewart |
Album | Down in the Cellar |
作词 : Stewart | |
The earthquake hit at 6:19 with a jolt | |
People went running for the doorway | |
And for the next half minute it shook | |
Up on the 17th floor the sommelier was opening the wine | |
He knew the great hotel was solidly built | |
Still it must have been a miracle that nothing got spilt. | |
Terry O'Shea got up from the Chippendale chair | |
Talking on the telephone | |
Looking perplexed, waving a hand in the air | |
In the great room all alone | |
Fifty years old today, a microdot billionaire | |
Putting on a party like a Hollywood guy | |
With all the food and wine that his money could buy | |
The band came in arguing as usual | |
About nothing in particular | |
It always seemed to be that way | |
Tuning up and putting out set lists | |
Of all the stupid songs musicians hate to play | |
Still it could be better then usual | |
The food looked great, it was money not glory | |
So when the clock struck eight | |
They began the theme tune from "Love Story". | |
Time went by with no one arriving at all | |
It was just Terry and the pictures | |
Of dead people frowning from the wall, | |
They didn't look very pleased | |
It was completely clear nobody was coming | |
They were all staying home with their earthquake kits | |
Waiting for the aftershocks to hit | |
The Night That the Band Got the Wine | |
Thirty decanters of wine sat ready to pour | |
1961 Margaux and Petrus and Chateau Latour | |
Swaying in unison | |
Lobster and cavier, shrimp and salmon | |
They were all laid out with artistic flair | |
The waiters were already eyeing their share | |
Terry got up and he said "Enough" | |
And told the band to stop playing that dreadful stuff | |
He made them all come over to the table | |
And he gave them wine they never had dreamt of | |
So they worked their way through the burgundy and port | |
And started to relax | |
They discovered they had more in common then they thought | |
And so they went back | |
Over to the stand and started playing again | |
But this time differently | |
It got louder and louder and fairly insane | |
People heard it down in the street | |
It felt so good, they were smiling at each other | |
The waiters all ran out covering their ears | |
There was plaster from the ceiling on the crystal chandeliers | |
Terry was dancing like a madman and waving his hands | |
At anything and everything | |
Kicking up the dust from the carpet and doing handstands | |
Cackling and yodeling | |
This was a birthday bash he hadn't anticipated | |
Spinning like a top in the middle of the room | |
While the hotel shook to a sonic boom. | |
After a while he passed out cold on the floor | |
And dreamed revealing things | |
Then he didn't have computers anymore, | |
Or fawning underlings | |
He was running through the trees on a tropical isle | |
No more feeling tense | |
In a flower patterned shirt of questionable style | |
It all made sense | |
The band went back to their homes in the Hollywood hills | |
Better than they'd ever felt | |
Waking up their sleep-addled wives with rambling tales | |
It didn't go down very well | |
But as a legacy, they called a band meeting | |
And decided they were going to give up playing covers | |
From that day on they got along with one another | |
Terry woke up and strange as the story may seem. | |
Though he felt terrible | |
He found with the dawn he could still remember his dream | |
So he just fell away | |
Nobody's seem him since | |
But I like to think of him | |
Sitting on a beach like Gaugin wearing a smile | |
Waiting for a brown eyed girl, she'll be there in a while | |
Maybe thinking back to a long ago time | |
The Night That the Band Got the Wine | |
The Night That the Band Got the Wine |
zuò cí : Stewart | |
The earthquake hit at 6: 19 with a jolt | |
People went running for the doorway | |
And for the next half minute it shook | |
Up on the 17th floor the sommelier was opening the wine | |
He knew the great hotel was solidly built | |
Still it must have been a miracle that nothing got spilt. | |
Terry O' Shea got up from the Chippendale chair | |
Talking on the telephone | |
Looking perplexed, waving a hand in the air | |
In the great room all alone | |
Fifty years old today, a microdot billionaire | |
Putting on a party like a Hollywood guy | |
With all the food and wine that his money could buy | |
The band came in arguing as usual | |
About nothing in particular | |
It always seemed to be that way | |
Tuning up and putting out set lists | |
Of all the stupid songs musicians hate to play | |
Still it could be better then usual | |
The food looked great, it was money not glory | |
So when the clock struck eight | |
They began the theme tune from " Love Story". | |
Time went by with no one arriving at all | |
It was just Terry and the pictures | |
Of dead people frowning from the wall, | |
They didn' t look very pleased | |
It was completely clear nobody was coming | |
They were all staying home with their earthquake kits | |
Waiting for the aftershocks to hit | |
The Night That the Band Got the Wine | |
Thirty decanters of wine sat ready to pour | |
1961 Margaux and Petrus and Chateau Latour | |
Swaying in unison | |
Lobster and cavier, shrimp and salmon | |
They were all laid out with artistic flair | |
The waiters were already eyeing their share | |
Terry got up and he said " Enough" | |
And told the band to stop playing that dreadful stuff | |
He made them all come over to the table | |
And he gave them wine they never had dreamt of | |
So they worked their way through the burgundy and port | |
And started to relax | |
They discovered they had more in common then they thought | |
And so they went back | |
Over to the stand and started playing again | |
But this time differently | |
It got louder and louder and fairly insane | |
People heard it down in the street | |
It felt so good, they were smiling at each other | |
The waiters all ran out covering their ears | |
There was plaster from the ceiling on the crystal chandeliers | |
Terry was dancing like a madman and waving his hands | |
At anything and everything | |
Kicking up the dust from the carpet and doing handstands | |
Cackling and yodeling | |
This was a birthday bash he hadn' t anticipated | |
Spinning like a top in the middle of the room | |
While the hotel shook to a sonic boom. | |
After a while he passed out cold on the floor | |
And dreamed revealing things | |
Then he didn' t have computers anymore, | |
Or fawning underlings | |
He was running through the trees on a tropical isle | |
No more feeling tense | |
In a flower patterned shirt of questionable style | |
It all made sense | |
The band went back to their homes in the Hollywood hills | |
Better than they' d ever felt | |
Waking up their sleepaddled wives with rambling tales | |
It didn' t go down very well | |
But as a legacy, they called a band meeting | |
And decided they were going to give up playing covers | |
From that day on they got along with one another | |
Terry woke up and strange as the story may seem. | |
Though he felt terrible | |
He found with the dawn he could still remember his dream | |
So he just fell away | |
Nobody' s seem him since | |
But I like to think of him | |
Sitting on a beach like Gaugin wearing a smile | |
Waiting for a brown eyed girl, she' ll be there in a while | |
Maybe thinking back to a long ago time | |
The Night That the Band Got the Wine | |
The Night That the Band Got the Wine |