| Song | A Heartfelt Line Or Two |
| Artist | Joan Baez |
| Album | Blowin' Away |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Baez | |
| A HEARTFELT LINE OR TWO | |
| (Words and Music by Joan Baez) | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it's clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I'll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you | |
| To the kid I thought was a little too young | |
| To know what sadness was | |
| Who took me out when I was down | |
| And set out to find the cause | |
| Of why the lady had the blues | |
| And seemed on the verge of tears | |
| I tell you that kid must have been around | |
| For a hundred and fifty years | |
| And to the tough guy blonde with the front tooth gone | |
| And ships all over his chest | |
| Who approached me out on the promenade | |
| Of the beach heading into the west | |
| His friends lay around on the muscleman lawn | |
| Like a drunken pirate band | |
| But he turned into a gentleman | |
| Called me a lady and kissed my hand | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it's clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I'll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you | |
| To the man and the woman who threw me a glance | |
| As they picnicked by the sea | |
| And returned their gaze to the kid and the food | |
| So as not to bother me | |
| They got up to leave and the woman looked on | |
| As the man leaned down to say | |
| "You've always meant so much to us | |
| Don't want to bother you and have a nice day" | |
| And to the band of gypsies I call friends | |
| Who speak so carefully | |
| To their friend with a life unlike their own | |
| In its strange complexities | |
| Who have the patience of the saints | |
| When I've been down for a spell | |
| I wish it were a whole lot easier | |
| To find the words to wish them well | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it's clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I'll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you |
| zuo ci : Baez | |
| A HEARTFELT LINE OR TWO | |
| Words and Music by Joan Baez | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it' s clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I' ll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you | |
| To the kid I thought was a little too young | |
| To know what sadness was | |
| Who took me out when I was down | |
| And set out to find the cause | |
| Of why the lady had the blues | |
| And seemed on the verge of tears | |
| I tell you that kid must have been around | |
| For a hundred and fifty years | |
| And to the tough guy blonde with the front tooth gone | |
| And ships all over his chest | |
| Who approached me out on the promenade | |
| Of the beach heading into the west | |
| His friends lay around on the muscleman lawn | |
| Like a drunken pirate band | |
| But he turned into a gentleman | |
| Called me a lady and kissed my hand | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it' s clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I' ll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you | |
| To the man and the woman who threw me a glance | |
| As they picnicked by the sea | |
| And returned their gaze to the kid and the food | |
| So as not to bother me | |
| They got up to leave and the woman looked on | |
| As the man leaned down to say | |
| " You' ve always meant so much to us | |
| Don' t want to bother you and have a nice day" | |
| And to the band of gypsies I call friends | |
| Who speak so carefully | |
| To their friend with a life unlike their own | |
| In its strange complexities | |
| Who have the patience of the saints | |
| When I' ve been down for a spell | |
| I wish it were a whole lot easier | |
| To find the words to wish them well | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it' s clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I' ll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you |
| zuò cí : Baez | |
| A HEARTFELT LINE OR TWO | |
| Words and Music by Joan Baez | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it' s clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I' ll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you | |
| To the kid I thought was a little too young | |
| To know what sadness was | |
| Who took me out when I was down | |
| And set out to find the cause | |
| Of why the lady had the blues | |
| And seemed on the verge of tears | |
| I tell you that kid must have been around | |
| For a hundred and fifty years | |
| And to the tough guy blonde with the front tooth gone | |
| And ships all over his chest | |
| Who approached me out on the promenade | |
| Of the beach heading into the west | |
| His friends lay around on the muscleman lawn | |
| Like a drunken pirate band | |
| But he turned into a gentleman | |
| Called me a lady and kissed my hand | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it' s clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I' ll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you | |
| To the man and the woman who threw me a glance | |
| As they picnicked by the sea | |
| And returned their gaze to the kid and the food | |
| So as not to bother me | |
| They got up to leave and the woman looked on | |
| As the man leaned down to say | |
| " You' ve always meant so much to us | |
| Don' t want to bother you and have a nice day" | |
| And to the band of gypsies I call friends | |
| Who speak so carefully | |
| To their friend with a life unlike their own | |
| In its strange complexities | |
| Who have the patience of the saints | |
| When I' ve been down for a spell | |
| I wish it were a whole lot easier | |
| To find the words to wish them well | |
| Though the songwriters of the industry | |
| Write most of the songs I do | |
| And it' s clear that no one will ever | |
| Sing them quite the way I do | |
| I think tonight I' ll sit down and write | |
| A heartfelt line or two | |
| And if they turn out good enough | |
| I owe every word to you |