Third Week in the Chelsea Lyrics
| Song | Third Week in the Chelsea |
| Artist | Jefferson Airplane |
| Album | 2400 Fulton Street |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Kaukonen | |
| Third Week in the | |
| Chelseaby | |
| Jorma Kaukonen | |
| Sometimes | |
| I feel like i am leaving life behind | |
| My hands are moving faster than the movement of my mind | |
| Thoughts and generations of my dreams are yet unborn | |
| So we go on moving trying to make this image real | |
| I hope that | |
| I will find them 'fore my moving gets too worn | |
| Straining every nerve not knowing what we really feel | |
| If only I could live to see the dawning of the dawn | |
| Straining every nerve ending and everybody sees | |
| That what they read in the | |
| Rolling Stone has really come to be | |
| And trying to avoid a taste of that reality | |
| Showed to me a face | |
| I didn't know at all | |
| On an early | |
| New York mornin' a mirror in the hall | |
| When I looked into the mouth there was nothing left inside | |
| Lines were drawn around a pair of eyes that opened wide | |
| So I walked into the little room and whistled like a sigh | |
| As dawn light closed around me my head was still in gear | |
| Thinking thoughts of playing more and singing loud and clear | |
| Trying to reach a friend somewhere and make that person smile | |
| Maybe pull myself away from that old lonesome mile | |
| That often comes to haunt me in the morning | |
| All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame | |
| To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name | |
| Emptiness ain't where it's at and neither's feeling pain | |
| Time is getting late now and the sun is getting low | |
| But all I know is what | |
| I feel whenever | |
| I'm not playin' | |
| Well now what is going to happen now is anybody's guess | |
| If I can't spend my time with love | |
| I guess I need a rest | |
| And sunshine's waiting for me a little further down the road | |
| My body's getting tired of carryin' another's load |
| zuo ci : Kaukonen | |
| Third Week in the | |
| Chelseaby | |
| Jorma Kaukonen | |
| Sometimes | |
| I feel like i am leaving life behind | |
| My hands are moving faster than the movement of my mind | |
| Thoughts and generations of my dreams are yet unborn | |
| So we go on moving trying to make this image real | |
| I hope that | |
| I will find them ' fore my moving gets too worn | |
| Straining every nerve not knowing what we really feel | |
| If only I could live to see the dawning of the dawn | |
| Straining every nerve ending and everybody sees | |
| That what they read in the | |
| Rolling Stone has really come to be | |
| And trying to avoid a taste of that reality | |
| Showed to me a face | |
| I didn' t know at all | |
| On an early | |
| New York mornin' a mirror in the hall | |
| When I looked into the mouth there was nothing left inside | |
| Lines were drawn around a pair of eyes that opened wide | |
| So I walked into the little room and whistled like a sigh | |
| As dawn light closed around me my head was still in gear | |
| Thinking thoughts of playing more and singing loud and clear | |
| Trying to reach a friend somewhere and make that person smile | |
| Maybe pull myself away from that old lonesome mile | |
| That often comes to haunt me in the morning | |
| All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame | |
| To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name | |
| Emptiness ain' t where it' s at and neither' s feeling pain | |
| Time is getting late now and the sun is getting low | |
| But all I know is what | |
| I feel whenever | |
| I' m not playin' | |
| Well now what is going to happen now is anybody' s guess | |
| If I can' t spend my time with love | |
| I guess I need a rest | |
| And sunshine' s waiting for me a little further down the road | |
| My body' s getting tired of carryin' another' s load |
| zuò cí : Kaukonen | |
| Third Week in the | |
| Chelseaby | |
| Jorma Kaukonen | |
| Sometimes | |
| I feel like i am leaving life behind | |
| My hands are moving faster than the movement of my mind | |
| Thoughts and generations of my dreams are yet unborn | |
| So we go on moving trying to make this image real | |
| I hope that | |
| I will find them ' fore my moving gets too worn | |
| Straining every nerve not knowing what we really feel | |
| If only I could live to see the dawning of the dawn | |
| Straining every nerve ending and everybody sees | |
| That what they read in the | |
| Rolling Stone has really come to be | |
| And trying to avoid a taste of that reality | |
| Showed to me a face | |
| I didn' t know at all | |
| On an early | |
| New York mornin' a mirror in the hall | |
| When I looked into the mouth there was nothing left inside | |
| Lines were drawn around a pair of eyes that opened wide | |
| So I walked into the little room and whistled like a sigh | |
| As dawn light closed around me my head was still in gear | |
| Thinking thoughts of playing more and singing loud and clear | |
| Trying to reach a friend somewhere and make that person smile | |
| Maybe pull myself away from that old lonesome mile | |
| That often comes to haunt me in the morning | |
| All my friends keep telling me that it would be a shame | |
| To break up such a grand success and tear apart a name | |
| Emptiness ain' t where it' s at and neither' s feeling pain | |
| Time is getting late now and the sun is getting low | |
| But all I know is what | |
| I feel whenever | |
| I' m not playin' | |
| Well now what is going to happen now is anybody' s guess | |
| If I can' t spend my time with love | |
| I guess I need a rest | |
| And sunshine' s waiting for me a little further down the road | |
| My body' s getting tired of carryin' another' s load |
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