Joan Baez - Any Day Now (2001) by Joan Baez (보컬) on maniadb.com

Come gather 'round friends
And I'll tell you a tale
Of when the red iron pits ran plenty.
But the cardboard filled windows
And old men on the benches
Tell you now that the whole town is empty.

In the north end of town,
My own children are grown
But I was raised on the other.
In the wee hours of youth,
My mother took sick
And I was brought up by my brother.

The iron ore poured
As the years passed the door,
The drag lines an' the shovels they was a-humming.
'Til one day my brother
Failed to come home
The same as my father before him.

Well a long winter's wait,
From the window I watched.
My friends they couldn't have been kinder.
And my schooling was cut
As I quit in the spring
To marry John Thomas, a miner.

Oh the years passed again
And the givin' was good,
With the lunch bucket filled every season.
What with three babies born,
The work was cut down
To a half a day's shift with no reason.

Then the shaft was soon shut
And more work was cut,
And the fire in the air, it felt frozen.
'Til a man come to speak
And he said in one week
That number eleven was closin'.

They complained in the East,
They are paying too high.
They say that your ore ain't worth digging.
That it's much cheaper down
In the South American towns
Where the miners work almost for nothing.

So the mining gates locked
And the red iron rotted
And the room smelled heavy from drinking.
Where the sad, silent song
Made the hour twice as long
As I waited for the sun to go sinking.

I lived by the window
As he talked to himself,
This silence of tongues it was building.
Then one morning's wake,
The bed it was bare,
And I's left alone with three children.

The summer is gone,
The ground's turning cold,
The stores one by one they're a-foldin'.
My children will go
As soon as they grow.
Well, there ain't nothing here now to hold them.

"Oh, help me in my weakness,"
I heard the drifter say,
As they carried him from the courtroom
And were taking him away.
"My trip hasn't been a pleasant one
And my time it isn't long,
And I still do not know
What it was that I've done wrong."

Well, the judge, he cast his robe aside,
A tear came to his eye,
"You fail to understand," he said,
"Why must you even try?"
Outside, the crowd was stirring,
You could hear it from the door.
Inside, the judge was stepping down,
While the jury cried for more.

"Oh, stop that cursed jury,"
Cried the attendant and the nurse,
"The trial was bad enough,
But this is ten times worse."
Just then a bolt of lightning
Struck the courthouse out of shape,
And while ev'rybody knelt to pray
The drifter did escape.

(Bob Dylan)


I pity the poor immigrant who wishes he would have stayed home
who uses all his power to do evil but in the end is always left so alone
that man whom with his fingers cheats and whom lies with every breath
who passionately hates his life and likewise fears his death

I pity the poor immigrant whose strength is spent in vain
whose heaven is like ironsides whose tears are like rain
Who eats but is not satisfied who hears but does not see
who falls in love with wealth itself and turns his back on me

I pity the poor immigrant who tramples through the mud
who fills his mouth with laughing and who fills his town with blood
whose visions in the final end must shatter like the glass
I pity the poor immigrant when his gladness comes to pass

We carried you in our arms
On Independence Day,
And now you'd throw us all aside
And put us on our way.
Oh what dear daughter 'neath the sun
Would treat a father so,
To wait upon him hand and foot
And always tell him, "No"?
Tears of rage, tears of grief,
Why must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
We're so alone
And life is brief.

We pointed out the way to go
And scratched your name in sand,
Though you just thought it was nothing more
Than a place for you to stand.
Now, I want you to know that while we watched,
You discover there was no one true.
Most ev'rybody really thought
It was a childish thing to do.
Tears of rage, tears of grief,
Must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
We're so low
And life is brief.

It was all very painless
When you went out to receive
All that false instruction
Which we never could believe.
And now the heart is filled with gold
As if it was a purse.
But, oh, what kind of love is this
Which goes from bad to worse?
Tears of rage, tears of grief,
Must I always be the thief?
Come to me now, you know
We're so low
And life is brief.

With your mercury mouth in the missionary times,
And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes,
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes,
Oh, who among them do they think could bury you?
With your pockets well protected at last,
And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass,
And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass,
Who among them do they think could carry you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I put them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace,
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,
And your basement clothes and your hollow face,
Who among them can think he could outguess you?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims,
And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,
Who among them would try to impress you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss,
And you wouldn't know it would happen like this,
But who among them really wants just to kiss you?
With your childhood flames on your midnight rug,
And your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs,
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs,
Who among them do you think could resist you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Oh, the farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide
To show you the dead angels that they used to hide.
But why did they pick you to sympathize with their side?
Oh, how could they ever mistake you?
They wished you'd accepted the blame for the farm,
But with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm,
And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms,
How could they ever, ever persuade you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row,
And your magazine-husband who one day just had to go,
And your gentleness now, which you just can't help but show,
Who among them do you think would employ you?
Now you stand with your thief, you're on his parole
With your holy medallion which your fingertips fold,
And your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul,
Oh, who among them do you think could destroy you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Seems like only yesterday
I left my mind behind
Down in the Gypsy Cafe
With a friend of a friend of mine
Who sat with a baby heavy on her knee
Yet spoke of life most free from slavery
With eyes that showed no trace of misery
A phrase in connection first with she occurred
That love is just a four-letter word

Outside a rattling store-front window
Cats meowed to the break of day
Me, I kept my mouth shut,
To you I had no words to say
My experience was limited and underfed
You were talking while I hid
To the one who was the father of your kid
You probably didn't think I did, but I heard
You say that love is just a four-letter word

I said goodbye unnoticed
Pushed forth into my own games
Drifting in and out of lifetimes
Unmentionable by name
Searching for my double, looking for
Complete evaporation to the core
Though I tried and failed at finding any door
I must have thought that there was nothing more
Absurd than that love is just a four-letter word

Though I never knew just what you meant
When you were speaking to your man
I can only think in terms of me
And now I understand
After waking enough times to think I see
The Holy Kiss that's supposed to last eternity
Blow up in smoke, it's destiny
Falls on strangers, travels free
Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me
And I do not really need to be
Assured that love is just a four-letter word

Words and Music by Bob Dylan


I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive as you our me,
Tearing through these quarters in the utmost misery.
With a blanket underneath his arm and coat solid gold,
Searching for the very souls whom already had been sold.

"Arise, arise," he cried so loud with a voice without restraint.
"Come out, you gifted kings and queens and hear my sad complaint.
No martyr is among you now whom you can call your own
Go on you way accordingly, but you know you're not alone.

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive with fiery breath
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones that put him out to death.
Oh, I awoke in anger so alone and terrified.
I put my fingers against the glass and bowed my head and I cried.

Dear landlord,
Please don't put a price on my soul.
My burden is heavy,
My dreams are beyond control.
When that steamboat whistle blows,
I'm gonna give you all I got to give,
And I do hope you receive it well,
Dependin' on the way you feel that you live.

Dear landlord,
Please heed these words that I speak.
I know you've suffered much,
But in this you are not so unique.


All of us, at times, we might work too hard
To have it too fast and too much,
And anyone can fill his life up
With things he can see but he just cannot touch.

Dear landlord,
Please don't dismiss my case.
I'm not about to argue,
I'm not about to move to no other place.
Now, each of us has his own special gift
And you know this was meant to be true,
And if you don't underestimate me,
I won't underestimate you.

ONE TOO MANY MORNINGS
words and music Bob Dylan

Down the street the dogs are barkin'
And the day is a-gettin' dark.
As the night comes in a-fallin',
The dogs 'll lose their bark.
An' the silent night will shatter
From the sounds inside my mind,
For I'm one too many mornings
And a thousand miles behind.

From the crossroads of my doorstep,
My eyes they start to fade,
As I turn my head back to the room
Where my love and I have laid.
An' I gaze back to the street,
The sidewalk and the sign,
And I'm one too many mornings
An' a thousand miles behind.

It's a restless hungry feeling
That don't mean no one no good,
When ev'rything I'm a-sayin'
You can say it just as good.
You're right from your side,
I'm right from mine.
We're both just too many mornings
An' a thousand miles behind.

They say ev'rything can be replaced,
Yet ev'ry distance is not near.
So I remember ev'ry face
Of ev'ry man who put me here.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

They say ev'ry man needs protection,
They say ev'ry man must fall.
Yet I swear I see my reflection
Some place so high above this wall.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released.

Standing next to me in this lonely crowd,
Is a man who swears he's not to blame.
All day long I hear him shout so loud,
Crying out that he was framed.
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east.
Any day now, any day now,
I shall be released

Well I'm sailin away my own true love.
I'm sailin' away in the mornin'
Is there something I can send you from across the sea,
From the place where I'll be landin'?

No, there's nothing you can bring me my own true love.
There's nothing I wish to be ownin'.
Just carry yourself back to me unspoiled
from across that lonesome ocean.

Well I just though you might want something fine
made of silver or of golden
either from the mountains of Madrid
or the coast of Barcelona.

If I had the stars from the darkest night
and the diamonds from the deepest ocean,
I'd foresake them all for your sweet kiss,
for that's all I'm wishin' to be ownin'

That I might be gone a long old time,
and it's only that I'm askin'.
Is there something I can give you to remember me by,
To make your time more easy passin'?

Oh how can, how can you ask me again?
It only brings me sorrow.
For the same thing that I want from you today
I would want again tomorrow.

Well I got a letter on a lonesome day.
It was from her ship a'sailin'.
Sayin' "I don't know when I'll be comin' back again.
It depends on how I'm feelin'."

Well if you my love must think that a'way
I'm sure your mind is a'roamin'.
I'm sure your heart is not with me
but with the country where you're goin'.

So take heed, take heed of the Western wind.
Take heed of the stormy weather.
And yes, there's something you can send back to me;
SPANISH BOOTS OF SPANISH LEATHER.

Well, I'm walkin' down the line,
I'm walkin' down the line
An' I'm walkin' down the line.
My feet'll be a-flyin'
To tell about my troubled mind.

I got a heavy-headed gal
I got a heavy-headed gal
I got a heavy-headed gal
She ain't feelin' well
When she's better only time will tell

Well, I'm walkin' down the line,
I'm walkin' down the line
An' I'm walkin' down the line.
My feet'll be a-flyin'
To tell about my troubled mind.

My money comes and goes
My money comes and goes
My money comes and goes
And rolls and flows and rolls and flows
Through the holes in the pockets in my clothes

Well, I'm walkin' down the line,
I'm walkin' down the line
An' I'm walkin' down the line.
My feet'll be a-flyin'
To tell about my troubled mind.

I see the morning light
I see the morning light
Well it's not because
I'm an early riser
I didn't go to sleep last night

Well, I'm walkin' down the line,
I'm walkin' down the line
An' I'm walkin' down the line.
My feet'll be a-flyin'
To tell about my troubled mind.

I got my walkin' shoes
I got my walkin' shoes
I got my walkin' shoes
An' I ain't a-gonna lose
I believe I got the walkin' blues

Well, I'm walkin' down the line,
I'm walkin' down the line
An' I'm walkin' down the line.
My feet'll be a-flyin'
To tell about my troubled mind.

Bob Dylan
from the album The Times They Are A-Changin'

Oh all the money that in my whole life I spent
Be it mine right or wrongfully
I'd let it slip gladly past the hands of my friends
To tie up the time most forcefully
But the bottles are done, we've killed each one
And the table is full and overflowed
And the corner sign says it's closing time
So I'll bid farewell and be down the road

Oh every boy that ever I've touched
I did not do it harmfully
And every boy that ever I've hurt
I did not do it knowingly
But to remain as friends, you need the time
To make amends and stay behind
And since my feet are now fast
And point away from the past
I'll bid farewell and be down the line

Oh every foe that ever I faced
The cause was there before we came
And every cause that ever I fought
I fought it full without regret or shame
But the dark does die as the curtain is drawn
And somebody's eyes must meet the dawn
And if I see the day I'd only have to stay
So I'll bid farewell in the night and be gone

Oh a false clock tries to tick out my time
To disgrace, distract and bother me
And the dirt of gossip blows into my face
And the dust of rumors covers me
But if the arrow is straight and the point is slick
It can pierce through the dust no matter how thick
So I'll make my stand and remain as I am
And bid farewell and not give a damn

How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
How many seas must the white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
How many times must the cannonballs fly
Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

How many years can a mountain exist
Before it's washed to the sea?
How many years must some people exist
Before they're allowed to be free?
And how many times can a man turn his head
And pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

How many times can a man look up
Before he sees the sky?
How many ears must one person have
Before he can hear people cry?
And how many deaths will it take 'til he knows
That too many people have died?

The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

Oh, the answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind
The answer is blowing in the wind

Go away from my window, leave at your own chosen speed.
I'm not the one you want, babe, I'm not the one you need.
You say you're looking for someone, never weak but always strong,
to protect you and defend you, whether you are right or wrong.
Someone to open each and every door.
But it ain't me, babe, no, no, no, it ain't me, babe,
it ain't me you're looking for, babe.
Go lightly from the ledge, babe, go lightly on the ground.
I'm not the one you want, babe, I will only let you down.
You say you're looking for someone, who will promise never to part.
Someone to close his eyes for you, someone to close his heart.
Someone who will die for you and more. + CHORUS
Go, melt back in the night, babe, everything inside is made of stone.
There's nothing in here moving, and anyway I'm not alone.
You say you're looking for someone,
who'll pick you up each time you fall.
To gather flowers constantly, and to come each time you call.
A love of your life and nothing more. + CHORUS



(Joan Baez)


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