| Song | Blues For The Muse |
| Artist | The Incredible String Band |
| Album | The 5000 Spirits Or The Layers Of The Onion |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Williamson | |
| I wake up in the early when I see my day walk in; | |
| I wake up in the early when I start to begin. | |
| I drink up my coffee to drive dreams away, | |
| And I think about leaving but remain for the day. | |
| Oh Glory but I just stay blind, | |
| Think about my loving, yes, some of the time | |
| I want to take it easy, | |
| Ain't it hard like they say, | |
| But I can play. | |
| And most any morning, most any morning | |
| I like to be born into my guitar day. | |
| They say it's all butterflies, | |
| Don't let your dreams get in your eyes, | |
| But Orpheus made the sunrise, | |
| 'Cause he knew how to play. | |
| She sings so fadey, | |
| Called the sweet guitar lady. | |
| She's a noted writer, I just can't seem to let her be. | |
| And she is my flower, I call her my easy hour. | |
| She's a low special, Baby that's enough for me. | |
| And it's all right, you're in the graveyard now. | |
| Well it's all right, you're in the graveyard now. | |
| You may weep, you may moan, | |
| You may pass your life so gay, | |
| But lucky in life, I swear sometimes, | |
| Surely going to have to meet your leaving day. | |
| Well, she sings like the seashore, | |
| Tonight I'm going to ride on your seesaw. | |
| I will call up the Angels if they have a little word to say, | |
| And I think I'll try cloudwalking. | |
| It's just my face you see here talking, | |
| And it's just the guitar singing, | |
| And I have to let her have her way. |
| zuo ci : Williamson | |
| I wake up in the early when I see my day walk in | |
| I wake up in the early when I start to begin. | |
| I drink up my coffee to drive dreams away, | |
| And I think about leaving but remain for the day. | |
| Oh Glory but I just stay blind, | |
| Think about my loving, yes, some of the time | |
| I want to take it easy, | |
| Ain' t it hard like they say, | |
| But I can play. | |
| And most any morning, most any morning | |
| I like to be born into my guitar day. | |
| They say it' s all butterflies, | |
| Don' t let your dreams get in your eyes, | |
| But Orpheus made the sunrise, | |
| ' Cause he knew how to play. | |
| She sings so fadey, | |
| Called the sweet guitar lady. | |
| She' s a noted writer, I just can' t seem to let her be. | |
| And she is my flower, I call her my easy hour. | |
| She' s a low special, Baby that' s enough for me. | |
| And it' s all right, you' re in the graveyard now. | |
| Well it' s all right, you' re in the graveyard now. | |
| You may weep, you may moan, | |
| You may pass your life so gay, | |
| But lucky in life, I swear sometimes, | |
| Surely going to have to meet your leaving day. | |
| Well, she sings like the seashore, | |
| Tonight I' m going to ride on your seesaw. | |
| I will call up the Angels if they have a little word to say, | |
| And I think I' ll try cloudwalking. | |
| It' s just my face you see here talking, | |
| And it' s just the guitar singing, | |
| And I have to let her have her way. |
| zuò cí : Williamson | |
| I wake up in the early when I see my day walk in | |
| I wake up in the early when I start to begin. | |
| I drink up my coffee to drive dreams away, | |
| And I think about leaving but remain for the day. | |
| Oh Glory but I just stay blind, | |
| Think about my loving, yes, some of the time | |
| I want to take it easy, | |
| Ain' t it hard like they say, | |
| But I can play. | |
| And most any morning, most any morning | |
| I like to be born into my guitar day. | |
| They say it' s all butterflies, | |
| Don' t let your dreams get in your eyes, | |
| But Orpheus made the sunrise, | |
| ' Cause he knew how to play. | |
| She sings so fadey, | |
| Called the sweet guitar lady. | |
| She' s a noted writer, I just can' t seem to let her be. | |
| And she is my flower, I call her my easy hour. | |
| She' s a low special, Baby that' s enough for me. | |
| And it' s all right, you' re in the graveyard now. | |
| Well it' s all right, you' re in the graveyard now. | |
| You may weep, you may moan, | |
| You may pass your life so gay, | |
| But lucky in life, I swear sometimes, | |
| Surely going to have to meet your leaving day. | |
| Well, she sings like the seashore, | |
| Tonight I' m going to ride on your seesaw. | |
| I will call up the Angels if they have a little word to say, | |
| And I think I' ll try cloudwalking. | |
| It' s just my face you see here talking, | |
| And it' s just the guitar singing, | |
| And I have to let her have her way. |