作词 : DiPiero, Tillis A baby with a baby just barely seventeen My mother mourned her innocence While she bounced me on her knee A daddy on the road added to her tears and trials Like silver rain they fell upon this melancholy child The sounds of my childhood still linger in my song My mother's lullaby that train that ran behind our home A whippoorwill on a window sill - It should have made me smile But everything sounds lonesome to a melancholy child Now a restless blood runs in our family I thought I could out run the emptiness inside of me So I went a little crazy, went a little wild Trying to outdistance my own melancholy child I met a kind and gentleman who thinks the world of me And when he looks my way it is a woman that he sees But when I can't explain to him the tears that fill my eyes He takes me in his arms and rocks his melancholy child You take a black Irish temper and some solemn Cherokee A Southern sense of humour and you got someone like me There are thorns on every rose to this I'm reconciled They're just a little sharper to a melancholy child And in my own babe's eyes I see the signs of melancholy child Heaven help us all, another melancholy child
作词 : DiPiero, Tillis A baby with a baby just barely seventeen My mother mourned her innocence While she bounced me on her knee A daddy on the road added to her tears and trials Like silver rain they fell upon this melancholy child The sounds of my childhood still linger in my song My mother's lullaby that train that ran behind our home A whippoorwill on a window sill - It should have made me smile But everything sounds lonesome to a melancholy child Now a restless blood runs in our family I thought I could out run the emptiness inside of me So I went a little crazy, went a little wild Trying to outdistance my own melancholy child I met a kind and gentleman who thinks the world of me And when he looks my way it is a woman that he sees But when I can't explain to him the tears that fill my eyes He takes me in his arms and rocks his melancholy child You take a black Irish temper and some solemn Cherokee A Southern sense of humour and you got someone like me There are thorns on every rose to this I'm reconciled They're just a little sharper to a melancholy child And in my own babe's eyes I see the signs of melancholy child Heaven help us all, another melancholy child
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