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Saigon Bride

Joan专辑

  • 作曲 : Unknown
    Farewell my wistful Saigon bride
    I'm going out to stem the tide
    A tide that never saw the seas
    It flows through jungles, round the trees
    Some say it's yellow, some say red
    It will not matter when we're dead
    How many dead men will it take
    To build a dike that will not break?
    How many children must we kill
    Before we make the waves stand still?
    Though miracles come high today
    We have the wherewithal to pay
    It takes them off the streets you know
    To places they would never go alone
    It gives them useful trades
    The lucky boys are even paid
    Men die to build their Pharoah's tombs
    And still and still the teeming wombs
    How many men to conquer Mars
    How many dead to reach the stars?
    Farewell my wistful Saigon bride
    I'm going out to stem the tide
    A tide that never saw the seas
    It flows through jungles, round the trees
    Some say it's yellow, some say red
    It will not matter when we're dead
    © 1967 Robbins Music Corporation and Chandos Music (ASCAP)
    Rights throughout the world controlled by Robbins Music Corporation
  • 作曲 : Unknown
    Farewell my wistful Saigon bride
    I'm going out to stem the tide
    A tide that never saw the seas
    It flows through jungles, round the trees
    Some say it's yellow, some say red
    It will not matter when we're dead
    How many dead men will it take
    To build a dike that will not break?
    How many children must we kill
    Before we make the waves stand still?
    Though miracles come high today
    We have the wherewithal to pay
    It takes them off the streets you know
    To places they would never go alone
    It gives them useful trades
    The lucky boys are even paid
    Men die to build their Pharoah's tombs
    And still and still the teeming wombs
    How many men to conquer Mars
    How many dead to reach the stars?
    Farewell my wistful Saigon bride
    I'm going out to stem the tide
    A tide that never saw the seas
    It flows through jungles, round the trees
    Some say it's yellow, some say red
    It will not matter when we're dead
    © 1967 Robbins Music Corporation and Chandos Music (ASCAP)
    Rights throughout the world controlled by Robbins Music Corporation