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Don McLean




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Альбом Don McLean


Tapestry (1970)
1970
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And if she asks you why
You can tell her that I told you that I'm tired
Of castles in the air, I've got a dream
I want the world to share, and castle walls
Just lead me to despair.

Hills of forest green
Where the mountains touch the sky, a dream come true
I'll live there till I die, I'm asking you
To say my last goodbye, the love we knew
Ain't worth another try.

Save me from all the trouble and the pain
I know I'm weak but I can't face that girl again
Tell her the reasons why I can't remain
Perhaps she'll understand, if you tell it to her plain

But how can words express
The feel of sunlight in the morning in the hills,
Away from city strife, I need a
Country woman for my wife, I'm city born,
But I love the country life.

For I will not be part
Of her cocktail generation, partners waltz
Devoid of all romance the music playes
And everyone must dance, I'm bowling out
I need a second chance.

Save me from all the trouble and the pain
I know I'm weak but I can't face that girl again
Tell her the reasons why I can't remain
Perhaps she'll understand, if you tell it to her plain

And if she asks you why
You can tell her that I told you that I'm tired
Of castles in the air, I've got a dream
I want the world to share and castle walls
Just lead me to despair.


. . .


Mornin', Mrs. Campbell
Lovely day today
I heard about the fire
I wonder what the papers say

Let's see now:
Give me fifty shotgun shells
And a hundred feet of rope
Just add that to my bill

Says here there ain't no hope
They all were burned alive
And four packs of cigarettes
No, I think I'll make it five

I heard about the wedding
I'm so happy for the bride
Why that fire house looked mighty nice
And the whole town swelled with pride

We've watched her grow to womanhood
She's found an upright man
She'll learn this life ain't easy
You do the best you can

No, no, my family ain't so good
My wife just had a spell
And I can't afford the medicine
She needs to make her well

I've been laid off at that factory
For sixteen months or more
I came home last Wednesday evenin'
I found her lyin' on the floor

Bye now, Mrs. Campbell
Say howdy to your son
You can tell him we'll go huntin'
When he gets a bigger gun

It was too bad about that fire
But don't you get me wrong
We've gotta teach these people
How to stay where they belong

. . .


The angels are lost in the city of stars
the wise men are down on their knees.
And the fruitman of freeway will sell you his cars
when he's sure that you can't find the keys.

And the ladies on Magdalene lane
all worship the sun and the sand.
And the migrants who come can't complain
for this is their promised land.

La la la la la la la la la,
la la la la la la la.
La la la la la la la la la,
la la la la la la la.

MGM studios can't make the nut
they're auctioning Dorothy's shoes.
Gable is gone, the good witch is a slut
and I've got the parking lot blues.

The wizard brought benzadrine smiles
and he never let Dorothy doze.
She died as she walked down the aisle
and all that remains is her clothes.

Over the rainbow a Kansas tornado
can twist up a little girlÂ's head.
Aunt Em's on relief and the tinman's a thief
and even the wizard can't wake the dead.

La la la la la la la la la,
la la la la la la la.

The prophet has come to this kingdom of lights
but there's no one to listen or learn.
And the savior performs for the prophet's delight
while dissenters are banished or burned.

And the heretics beg to be heard
but the savior's on tour for the week.
Salvation is found in his word
if only he'd learn how to speak.

And Lincoln is laughing with Amos 'n' Andy
concerning the Great Civil War.
And Paul Revere sleeps with the worst looking creeps
while revolution's knocking at his door.

La la la la la la la la la,
la la la la la la la.

Magdalene Lane is the red light domain
where everyone's soul is for sale.
A piece of your heart will do for a start
but you can send us the rest in the mail.

For we have our own families to feed
and we can't let them starve just for you.
Well, we'd rather not watch while you bleed
so come back in an hour when you're through.

It's just another city full of sorrow,
it makes no difference why I came.
I only know I'm leaving here tomorrow
and only the motel man knows my name.

. . .



Every thread of creation is held in position
by still other strands of things living.
In an earthly tapestry hung from the skyline
of smouldering cities so gray and so vulgar,
as not to be satisfied with their own negativity
but needing to touch all the living as well.

Every breeze that blows kindly is one crystal breath
we exhale on the blue diamond heaven.
As gentle to touch as the hands of the healer.
As soft as farewells whispered over the coffin.
We're poisoned by venom with each breath we take,
from the brown sulphur chimney and the black highway snake.

Every dawn that breaks golden is held in suspension
like the yoke of the egg in albumen.
Where the birth and the death of unseen generations
are interdependent in vast orchestration
and painted in colors of tapestry thread.
When the dying are born and the living are dead.

Every pulse of your heartbeat is one liquid moment
that flows through the veins of your being.
Like a river of life flowing on since creation.
Approaching the sea with each new generation.
You're now just a stagnant and rancid disgrace
that is rapidly drowning the whole human race.

Every fish that swims silent, every bird that flies freely,
every doe that steps softly.
Every crisp leaf that falls, all the flowers that grow
on this colourful tapestry, somehow they know.
That if man is allowed to destroy all they need.
He will soon have to pay with his life, for his greed.


. . .


Ah, it ain't so easy is it? You almost lost your place.
And perhaps you're wondering how you're going to cope with your disgrace.
Well your wealth is well established and your friends were never few,
And all the things they told you of you're finding to be true.
Well if truth can free the guilty while the innocent must die,
Then I respect, respect, respect the coldest lie.

And you talk of human justice while you drive on fancy wheels.
And you push them to their limit just to see how nice it feels.
Well it doesn't really matter if she's living or she's dead,
You just drive away forgetting that your bumper's dipped in red.
Well if that's the kind of justice that our hall of justice claims,
Then I respect, respect, respect old Jesse James.

And most cordially they caught you and they asked you to obey.
And they threw you into prison, just in case you could not pay.
Well King Arthur jousted Lancelot, who stole away his wife;
And your lawyers jousted with the court to save your precious life.
Well if living is what matters though you lie with every breath,
Then I respect, respect, the ones we put to death.

And you won your case most easily and soon you will be free.
But there will be a million more who lose their liberty.
Not because of what they did, but what they did not do:
They did not pay a lawyer or a judge to see them through.
Why, they had no friends to call on and they could not raise their bail.
Well if winning is what matters, I respect the ones who fail

. . .


There is no time to discuss or debate
what is right, what is wrong for our people.
Time has run out for all those who wait
with bent limbs and minds that are feeble.

And the rain falls and blows through their window
and the snow falls and blows through their door.
And the seasons revolve mid their sounds of starvation.
When the tides rise, they cover the floor.

They come from the north and they come from the south
and they come from the hills and the valleys.
And they're migrants and farmers and miners and humans,
our census neglected to tally.

And the rain falls and blows through their window
and the rain falls and it blows through their door.
And the seasons revolve mid their sounds of starvation.
When the tides rise, they cover the floor.

And they're African, Mexican, Caucasian, Indian,
hungry and hopeless Americans.
The orphans of wealth and of adequate health,
disowned by this nation they live in.

And with weather worn hands on bread lines they stand,
yet but one more degradation.
And they're treated like tramps while we sell them food stamps
this thriving and prosperous nation.

And the rain falls and blows through their window
and the snow falls and blows through their door.
And the seasons revolve mid their sounds of starvation.
When the tides rise, they cover the floor.

And with roaches and rickets and rats in the thickets,
infested, diseased and decaying.
With rags and no shoes and skin sores that ooze,
by the poisonous pools, they are playing.

In shacks of two rooms that are rotting wood tombs
with corpses breathing inside them.
And we pity their plight as they call in the night
and we do all that we can do to hide them.

And the rain falls and blows through their window
and the snow falls in white drifts that fold
and the tides rise with floods in the nursery.
And a child is crying, he's hungry and cold,
his life has been sold, his young face looks old.
It's the face of America, dying.

. . .


On the first floor… On the first floor…

On the first floor there's a young girl reeling
Her body's numb and without feeling
As illusions dance on the midnight ceiling
Now she's falling, now she's kneeling

It's almost like she's bowed in prayer
A savior she's about to bear
She screams for help, but no one's there…
On the first floor…

On the first floor people walk the halls
But none can hear her desperate calls
There is no sound beyond the walls
So to the telephone she crawls

She telephones her only friend
The one on whom she can depend
But the phone rings on without an end
Then rings no more…On the first floor…

There's a party on the second floor
And through the picture window you can see them all
They're laughing and they're dancing
Admiring the Renoir that's hanging on the wall

But in the master bedroom where the coats are piled high
A silent, saddened lady thinks of what it's like to die
And as she dwells on all the years she still has left to face
She wonders how she'll ever find someone to take his place

Then suddenly she's jarred by the ringing of the phone
Oh, why do you ring now, just when I want to be alone?
So she walks into the bathroom and drinks some water from a cup
But the telephone stops ringing just before she picks it up…

My family was very poor
So I worked hard to be secure
I married one I had to wed
And not the one I loved instead

When I was young my blood ran wild
But we stayed married for the child
Now three flights up, I'm all alone
My wife is dead, my child is grown

My daughter leads a wayward life
She's been a failure as a wife
And though she lives just one floor down
She never calls or comes around…

Step off the platform and onto the train
Look out your window and into the rain
Watch all the buildings that pass as you ride
And count all the stories that go on inside
And then ask yourself if it must be this way
Should walls and doors and plaster ceilings
Separate us from each others' feelings?

. . .



And I love you so
The people ask me how
How I've lived till now
I tell them I don't know

I guess they understand
How lonely life has been
But life began again
The day you took my hand

chorus:
And yes I know how lonely life can be
The shadows follow me
And the night won't set me free
But I don't let the evening get me down
Now that you're around me

And you love me too
Your thought are just for me
You set my spirit free
I'm happy that you do

The book of life is breif
And once a page is read
All but love is dead
That is my belief

chorus:
And yes I know how loveless life can be
The shadows follow me
And the night won't set me free
But I won't let the evening bring me down
Now that you're around me

And I love you so
The people ask me how
How I've lived till now
I tell them - I don't know


. . .


'Round and 'round, the years go 'round and 'round
And many a dream is lost in the nasty city sound…

Now she's down and out, everyone's above her
Tried everything a gal could try
She takes the notion that nobody loves her
And here's the reason why:

She came to the city like a good gal should
Found a little pad in a bad neighborhood
She learned about life and it was quite a shock
But now she knocks 'em down with the best on the block
Ah, right!

Yeah, and it's really a shame too,
'Cause she was her daddy's pride and joy

Daddy, won't you buy that pretty dolly for me?
It's the only toy I ever wanted
Won't you take me for a walk in the park?
I love the big brass band
And the chestnut stand
And that sad old man

'Round and 'round, the years go 'round and 'round
And many a dream is lost in the nasty city sound…

Now she's down and out, everyone's above her
Tried everything a gal could try
She takes the notion that nobody loves her

Oh, but she's wrong, you know,
Because I love her

. . .



Cotton candy, two for a quarter
See if the fat man can guess your weight
A big stuffed tiger is what I bought her
And I'm going home 'cause it's late

Roller coasters make me dizzy
And cotton candy makes me sick
I wish I had some Bromo fizzy
Now that would do the trick

Everyone knows that the clowns aren't happy
And everyone knows that the people don't care
I wish I could laugh at the way that they're acting
But I'm so sick, I just don't dare to

High wire dancers kick and balance
White silk horses step in time
The tattooed man displays his talents
I'm not the talented kind

I always go to the circus on Sunday
And there I can laugh at the people I see
But when I leave home in the morning on Monday
Everybody laughs at me

I make other people nervous
I guess that's why they laugh at me
But to me my life is a three-ring circus
And I can see it for free

Have you seen my wife Elvira?
She can tame a lion, you know
Well, I once had a bushy mane
But that was so damn long ago

Tight-collared clowns in plastic buildings
Have happy families as their fate
Happy jobs and happy clubs
And happy people they hate

Everyone's juggling and everyone's acting
With smiles of grease paint three feet wide
Everyone's caught on a carousel pony
And one time around is a lifetime ride


. . .


There's no need to find a reason for your dreams
for there is always more to dreaming than there seems to be.
And I'll be thankful if through out my life you dream of me.
It's all that I could ask for while I live.
A dream is such a lovely gift to give.
Ah, da, da.

Your fragile beauty caught me in its web.
And I am held by every silver strand of love you spin.
Here in a swirl of sleeping circles all my dreams begin.
Dreams that somehow always end with you.
You're the one that makes my dreams come true.

Sleep is lovely when you sleep next to me.
And while you're dreaming let your thoughts all run free.

But if I could understand what makes you free,
then I would capture you and hold you for eternity.
But I'm afraid that would destroy the love you feel for me.
And loving you is how it has to be.
Reasons don't mean anything to me.
Loving you is how it has to be.
Reasons don't mean anything to me....

. . .


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