| Song | Song for Mr. C |
| Artist | Shawn Phillips |
| Album | Second Contribution |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Phillips | |
| Saturday morning, yeah | |
| I come in late | |
| Just to find if you were there | |
| Just to look at your long brown hair | |
| And dream a dream out in the hall | |
| Was that my name that's just been called? | |
| I don't know, it could be | |
| Have you got something to tell on me? | |
| If you got something to tell on me, babe | |
| It better be good | |
| Even though you hate me so much | |
| I'm still comin' back | |
| Like you knew I would | |
| You can't believe | |
| What I been through these last few months | |
| It's very difficult to tell the difference | |
| Between the trumps and the down home dumps | |
| Only one thing I can say to you | |
| Even if you don't believe it's true | |
| It's true | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To find out where we're going | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To find out where you've been | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It's your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin | |
| Fellatia, Fellatia, how do you plead? | |
| You don't have to plead | |
| For anything that you really need | |
| Plead, have mercy | |
| When the wind starts blowin' hard | |
| And this cardboard world we're livin' in | |
| It ain't forgotten, out in the yard | |
| Out in the yard | |
| Where the air is cold | |
| And there ain't no leaves to fall | |
| He's lookin' hard at the ground for somethin' | |
| Somethin' that won't show up | |
| I keep lookin' back over my shoulder | |
| Couple of good friends goin' by | |
| Pour some wine over their fire | |
| Don't let the tears stay in your eyes | |
| He's not gone so very far | |
| I know he's very near | |
| 'Cause every time I call his name | |
| I know that he can hear | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To find out where we're going | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To find out where you've been | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It's your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin | |
| Hey, Mr. Roberts, don't you tell me no lies | |
| I don't mind you being vain | |
| Pick up the phone in your whitewashed house | |
| Simpering that same refrain | |
| Three to five more years | |
| Is all you got | |
| For you to do your nasty thing | |
| Making rain, suffering pain | |
| Telling everybody that it's in his name | |
| His name, whose name | |
| What are you telling me? | |
| I don't believe your tales | |
| Too many people in this world | |
| Don't like being snails | |
| If you gonna do it | |
| Better get it together | |
| Better go and make the change | |
| Do it right now | |
| Do it while it's warm | |
| Do it while it's there within your range | |
| It won't be so very hard | |
| You better have no fear | |
| 'Cause by the time you get it done | |
| It'll be so clear | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To find out where we're going | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To find out where you've been | |
| It's our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It's your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin |
| zuo qu : Phillips | |
| Saturday morning, yeah | |
| I come in late | |
| Just to find if you were there | |
| Just to look at your long brown hair | |
| And dream a dream out in the hall | |
| Was that my name that' s just been called? | |
| I don' t know, it could be | |
| Have you got something to tell on me? | |
| If you got something to tell on me, babe | |
| It better be good | |
| Even though you hate me so much | |
| I' m still comin' back | |
| Like you knew I would | |
| You can' t believe | |
| What I been through these last few months | |
| It' s very difficult to tell the difference | |
| Between the trumps and the down home dumps | |
| Only one thing I can say to you | |
| Even if you don' t believe it' s true | |
| It' s true | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where we' re going | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where you' ve been | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It' s your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin | |
| Fellatia, Fellatia, how do you plead? | |
| You don' t have to plead | |
| For anything that you really need | |
| Plead, have mercy | |
| When the wind starts blowin' hard | |
| And this cardboard world we' re livin' in | |
| It ain' t forgotten, out in the yard | |
| Out in the yard | |
| Where the air is cold | |
| And there ain' t no leaves to fall | |
| He' s lookin' hard at the ground for somethin' | |
| Somethin' that won' t show up | |
| I keep lookin' back over my shoulder | |
| Couple of good friends goin' by | |
| Pour some wine over their fire | |
| Don' t let the tears stay in your eyes | |
| He' s not gone so very far | |
| I know he' s very near | |
| ' Cause every time I call his name | |
| I know that he can hear | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where we' re going | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where you' ve been | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It' s your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin | |
| Hey, Mr. Roberts, don' t you tell me no lies | |
| I don' t mind you being vain | |
| Pick up the phone in your whitewashed house | |
| Simpering that same refrain | |
| Three to five more years | |
| Is all you got | |
| For you to do your nasty thing | |
| Making rain, suffering pain | |
| Telling everybody that it' s in his name | |
| His name, whose name | |
| What are you telling me? | |
| I don' t believe your tales | |
| Too many people in this world | |
| Don' t like being snails | |
| If you gonna do it | |
| Better get it together | |
| Better go and make the change | |
| Do it right now | |
| Do it while it' s warm | |
| Do it while it' s there within your range | |
| It won' t be so very hard | |
| You better have no fear | |
| ' Cause by the time you get it done | |
| It' ll be so clear | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where we' re going | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where you' ve been | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It' s your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin |
| zuò qǔ : Phillips | |
| Saturday morning, yeah | |
| I come in late | |
| Just to find if you were there | |
| Just to look at your long brown hair | |
| And dream a dream out in the hall | |
| Was that my name that' s just been called? | |
| I don' t know, it could be | |
| Have you got something to tell on me? | |
| If you got something to tell on me, babe | |
| It better be good | |
| Even though you hate me so much | |
| I' m still comin' back | |
| Like you knew I would | |
| You can' t believe | |
| What I been through these last few months | |
| It' s very difficult to tell the difference | |
| Between the trumps and the down home dumps | |
| Only one thing I can say to you | |
| Even if you don' t believe it' s true | |
| It' s true | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where we' re going | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where you' ve been | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It' s your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin | |
| Fellatia, Fellatia, how do you plead? | |
| You don' t have to plead | |
| For anything that you really need | |
| Plead, have mercy | |
| When the wind starts blowin' hard | |
| And this cardboard world we' re livin' in | |
| It ain' t forgotten, out in the yard | |
| Out in the yard | |
| Where the air is cold | |
| And there ain' t no leaves to fall | |
| He' s lookin' hard at the ground for somethin' | |
| Somethin' that won' t show up | |
| I keep lookin' back over my shoulder | |
| Couple of good friends goin' by | |
| Pour some wine over their fire | |
| Don' t let the tears stay in your eyes | |
| He' s not gone so very far | |
| I know he' s very near | |
| ' Cause every time I call his name | |
| I know that he can hear | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where we' re going | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where you' ve been | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It' s your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin | |
| Hey, Mr. Roberts, don' t you tell me no lies | |
| I don' t mind you being vain | |
| Pick up the phone in your whitewashed house | |
| Simpering that same refrain | |
| Three to five more years | |
| Is all you got | |
| For you to do your nasty thing | |
| Making rain, suffering pain | |
| Telling everybody that it' s in his name | |
| His name, whose name | |
| What are you telling me? | |
| I don' t believe your tales | |
| Too many people in this world | |
| Don' t like being snails | |
| If you gonna do it | |
| Better get it together | |
| Better go and make the change | |
| Do it right now | |
| Do it while it' s warm | |
| Do it while it' s there within your range | |
| It won' t be so very hard | |
| You better have no fear | |
| ' Cause by the time you get it done | |
| It' ll be so clear | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where we' re going | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To find out where you' ve been | |
| It' s our turn now | |
| To keep the new direction | |
| It' s your turn now | |
| To cast off all your sin |