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  • 作词 : Joan Baez
    作曲 : Joan Baez
    They brought me a beautiful basket of fruit
    And two finger bowls of glass
    The couch is gold with a floral design
    And the wine is Germany's best
    And the wine is Germany's best
    My thoughts drift ino the frozen night
    Frankfurt is covered with snow
    And numbly they ride on an icy wind
    To places they're longing to go
    To places they're longing to go
    I remember the tall dark Irish rose
    Who held me in my limousine
    And slept with me under a burgundy quilt
    With sheets of silk in between
    Well, anyway, that's how it seemed
    I thought I wanted to marry him
    His face was sculpted by God
    His words were gentle and ever so true
    And soft as the Irish fog
    And lost in the Irish fog
    I remember the boy from the monastery
    Who wanted to be a monk
    But he brought flowers and wine to my room
    And we both got happily drunk
    And we both got perfectly drunk
    He laughed like the chimes of a silver bell
    His eyes were alexandrite blue
    He danced the t'ai chi with the grace of a deer
    And I wanted to marry him too
    Yes I wanted to marry him too
    There was that son of a dog from the Tennessee hills
    Kept telling me I was still young
    He spoke in pure southern and smoothed out the lines
    Round my eyes saying I was the one
    Forever that I'd be the one
    He drank and he cussed and he wrote his own songs
    He was very much on the go
    We followed each other for over a year
    I couldn't have married him though
    So we just lived in sin on the road
    There was that black eyed beauty from Boston town
    Two days were never too long
    He stood by the mirror and picked out a rose
    But I already wrote him a song
    Yes, I already wrote him a song
    So here I sit with my basket of fruit
    And two finger bowls of glass
    I finished my bottle of Germany's best
    And concluded my thoughts on the past
    That love is a pain in the ass
  • 作词 : Joan Baez
    作曲 : Joan Baez
    They brought me a beautiful basket of fruit
    And two finger bowls of glass
    The couch is gold with a floral design
    And the wine is Germany's best
    And the wine is Germany's best
    My thoughts drift ino the frozen night
    Frankfurt is covered with snow
    And numbly they ride on an icy wind
    To places they're longing to go
    To places they're longing to go
    I remember the tall dark Irish rose
    Who held me in my limousine
    And slept with me under a burgundy quilt
    With sheets of silk in between
    Well, anyway, that's how it seemed
    I thought I wanted to marry him
    His face was sculpted by God
    His words were gentle and ever so true
    And soft as the Irish fog
    And lost in the Irish fog
    I remember the boy from the monastery
    Who wanted to be a monk
    But he brought flowers and wine to my room
    And we both got happily drunk
    And we both got perfectly drunk
    He laughed like the chimes of a silver bell
    His eyes were alexandrite blue
    He danced the t'ai chi with the grace of a deer
    And I wanted to marry him too
    Yes I wanted to marry him too
    There was that son of a dog from the Tennessee hills
    Kept telling me I was still young
    He spoke in pure southern and smoothed out the lines
    Round my eyes saying I was the one
    Forever that I'd be the one
    He drank and he cussed and he wrote his own songs
    He was very much on the go
    We followed each other for over a year
    I couldn't have married him though
    So we just lived in sin on the road
    There was that black eyed beauty from Boston town
    Two days were never too long
    He stood by the mirror and picked out a rose
    But I already wrote him a song
    Yes, I already wrote him a song
    So here I sit with my basket of fruit
    And two finger bowls of glass
    I finished my bottle of Germany's best
    And concluded my thoughts on the past
    That love is a pain in the ass