| Song | Rusty and Blue |
| Artist | CPR |
| Album | Live at the Wiltern |
| 作曲 : Crosby, Pevar | |
| How can I sweep these words into a cluster | |
| Put 'em in a pile like feathers on your floor? | |
| Voyages and sea forests deep blue and rusty | |
| Sew 'em in a satchel 'n leave 'em at your door | |
| People's lives, people's whose lives | |
| They fascinate me | |
| All my life, all my life | |
| I've wanted to understand | |
| There's a man on the corner he's got the moon in his eyes | |
| He just comes here to visit and he wears a disguise | |
| And I wonder if he's looking for friends or for truth | |
| I think he's calling for some in that telephone booth | |
| And the smiling woman answers | |
| She defeats fear with her eyes | |
| She thinks life's fine so I think she's wise | |
| And my heart wants to give her a gift so grand | |
| That it will speak for me and tell her just where I stand | |
| And I stand on a pillar and it's melting like ice | |
| Of years that I've lived and some I've lived twice | |
| And I have all these feathers and leaves on my floor | |
| That I don't want just blowing around loose anymore | |
| And I feel a need to gather to rummage and fetch | |
| To shake out my life and give it a stretch | |
| To bring shells to the surface, give 'em to you | |
| Gifts from the sea floor rusty and blue | |
| Now these two lives hold my attention quite well | |
| You see lives almost never run parallel | |
| Like the boards in the flooring all deep grained and worn | |
| Fated and fitted long before we were born | |
| People's lives, people's whose lives | |
| They fascinate me | |
| All my life, all my life | |
| I've wanted to understand | |
| Understand |
| zuò qǔ : Crosby, Pevar | |
| How can I sweep these words into a cluster | |
| Put ' em in a pile like feathers on your floor? | |
| Voyages and sea forests deep blue and rusty | |
| Sew ' em in a satchel ' n leave ' em at your door | |
| People' s lives, people' s whose lives | |
| They fascinate me | |
| All my life, all my life | |
| I' ve wanted to understand | |
| There' s a man on the corner he' s got the moon in his eyes | |
| He just comes here to visit and he wears a disguise | |
| And I wonder if he' s looking for friends or for truth | |
| I think he' s calling for some in that telephone booth | |
| And the smiling woman answers | |
| She defeats fear with her eyes | |
| She thinks life' s fine so I think she' s wise | |
| And my heart wants to give her a gift so grand | |
| That it will speak for me and tell her just where I stand | |
| And I stand on a pillar and it' s melting like ice | |
| Of years that I' ve lived and some I' ve lived twice | |
| And I have all these feathers and leaves on my floor | |
| That I don' t want just blowing around loose anymore | |
| And I feel a need to gather to rummage and fetch | |
| To shake out my life and give it a stretch | |
| To bring shells to the surface, give ' em to you | |
| Gifts from the sea floor rusty and blue | |
| Now these two lives hold my attention quite well | |
| You see lives almost never run parallel | |
| Like the boards in the flooring all deep grained and worn | |
| Fated and fitted long before we were born | |
| People' s lives, people' s whose lives | |
| They fascinate me | |
| All my life, all my life | |
| I' ve wanted to understand | |
| Understand |