There’s a young man that a know, his age is twenty one,
Comes from down in southern Colorado,
Just out of the service, and he’s lookin’ for his fun,
Someday soon, goin’ with him, someday soon.
I guess he’d rather be in Colorado
He’d rather play his banjo in the morning when the moon is scarcely gone
In the dawn the subways comin in the dawn I hear him hummin’
Some old song he wrote of love in Boulder Canyon
Please come to Denver with the snowfall
We’ll move up into the mountains so far that we can’t be found
And throw “I love you” echoes down the canyon
And then lie awake at night till they come back around
Please come to Denver
She said “No - boy, would you come home to me?”
See the sunlight through the pine
Taste the warm of winter wine
Dream of softly falling snow
Winter snow Aspenglow
A more unlikely pair you’ll never see
I was Mogan David wine
He was Chablis fifty-nine
But there we sat
The cowgirl and the dandy
He was ski resorts in Aspen
And summers in Paris
I was Grand Ole Opry Nashville, Tennessee
In my Tennessee mountain home,
Life is as peaceful as a baby’s sigh,
In my Tennessee mountain home,
Crickets sing in the fields near by.
In a little cabaret
In a south Texas border town
Sat a boy and his guitar
And the people came from all around
And all the girls
From there to Austin
Were slippin’ away from home
And puttin’ jewelry in hock to take the trip
To go and listen
To the little dark-haired boy who played the
Tennessee flat top box
And he would play
Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans
Way back up in the woods among the evergreens
There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood
Where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play a guitar just like a-ringin’ a bell
We are yesterday, we are today
We are tomorrow, we are timeless
We are stardust
We are golden
And we’ve got to get ourselves
Back to the garden
Don’t let me hear you say life’s taking you nowhere
Angel
Come get up, my baby
Run for the shadows, run for the shadows
Run for the shadows in these golden years
I’ll stick with you, baby, for a thousand years
Nothing’s gonna touch you in these golden years
Gold
All of the lonely nights
Waiting for you to come, longing to hold you tight
I need you so desperately
Waiting for you to come bringing your love to me [but]
I’d wait a million years
Walk a million miles, cry a million tears
I’d swim the deepest sea
Climb the highest hill, just to have you near me
Good morning mister sunshine, you brighten up my day,
Come sit beside me in your way.
I see you every morning, outside the restaurants,
The music plays so nonchalant.
Lonely days, lonely nights.
Where would I be without my woman?
American woman, said get away
American woman, listen what I say
Don’t come hangin’ around my door
Don’t wanna see your face no more
I don’t need your war machines
I don’t need your ghetto scenes
Coloured lights can hypnotize
Sparkle someone else’s eyes
Now woman, get away from me
American woman, mama let me be
As the snow flies,
On a cold and gray Chicago mornin’,
A poor little baby child is born,
In the ghetto (in the ghetto).
I started my life in an old, cold, rundown tenement slum.
My father left, he never even married Mom.
I shared the guilt my mama knew,
So afraid that others knew I had no name.
This love we’re contemplating, is worth the pain of waiting.
We’ll only end up hating the child we may be creating.
Love Child, never meant to be,
Love Child, by society,
Love Child, never meant to be,
Love Child, diff’rent from the rest.
I’ve had the blues
The reds and the pinks
One thing for sure
Love stinks yeah yeah
(Love stinks)
Love stinks yeah yeah
I got green and I got blues
And everyday there’s a little less
I belly-up and disappear
Well I ain’t really drowning cause
I see the beach from here…
From nine till five I have to spend my time at work,
The job is very boring, I’m an office clerk.
The only thing that helps pass the time away,
Is knowing I’ll be back at Echo Beach some day
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.