Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 2:43 | ||||
I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love
as she lies here beside me asleep with the night and her hair in a fine mist floats on my pillow reflecting the glow of the winter moonlight she is soft, she is warm, but my heart remains heavy and I watch as her breasts, gently rise, gently fall for I know with the first line of dawn I'll be leaving and tonight will be all I have left to recall oh what have I done, why have I done it? I've committed a crime, I've broken the law for 25 dollars and pieces of silver I held up and robbed a hard liquor store my life seems unreal, my crime an illusion a scene badly written in which I must play yet I know as I gaze at my young love beside me the morning is just a few hours away |
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2. |
| 2:44 | ||||
Fog's rollin' in off the East River bank
Like a shroud it covers Bleeker Street Fills the alleys where men sleep Hides the shepherd from the sheep Voices leaking from a sad cafe Smiling faces try to understand I saw a shadow touch a shadow's hand On Bleeker Street A poet reads his crooked rhyme Holy, holy is his sacrament Thirty dollars pays your rent On Bleeker Street I head a church bell softly chime In a melody sustainin' It's a long road to Caanan On Bleeker Street Bleeker Street" |
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3. |
| 3:06 | ||||
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again, Because a vision softly creeping, Left its seeds while I was sleeping, And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains Within the sound of silence. In restless dreams I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone, 'Neat the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night And touched the sound of silence. And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more. People talking without speaking, People hearing without listening, People writing songs that voices never share And no one dared Disturb the sound of silence. "Fools" said I,"You do not know Silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you, Take my arms that I might reach you." But my words like silent raindrops fell, And echoed In the wells of silence And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning, In the words that it was forming. And the signs said, The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls And tenement halls. And whispered in the sounds of silence." |
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4. |
| 2:29 | ||||
I was twenty one years
when I wrote this song twenty two now but I won't be for long Time hurries on And the leaves that are green turn to brown And they wither in the wind And they crumble in your hand Once my heart was filled with the love of a girl I held her close but she faded in the night Like a poem I meant to write And the leaves that are green turn to brown And they wither in the wind And they crumble in your hand I threw a pebble in a brook And watched the ripple run away And they never made a sound And the leaves that are green turn to brown And they wither in the wind And they crumble in your hand Hello hello hello hello Goodbye goodbye goodbye goodbye That's all there is And the leaves that are green turn to brown |
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5. |
| 2:32 | ||||
He was a most peculiar man
That's what Mrs. Riordan says and she should know She lived upstairs from him She said he was a most peculiar man He was a most peculiar man He lived all alone within a house Within a room, within himself A most peculiar man He had no friends, he seldom spoke And no one in turn ever spoke to him 'Cause he wasn't friendly and he didn't care And he wasn't like them Oh no! He was a most peculiar man He died last Saturday He turned on the gas and he went to sleep With the windows closed so he'd never wake up To his silent world and his tiny room And Mrs. Riordan says he has a brother somewhere Who should be notified soon And all the people said, "What a shame that he's dead But wasn't he a most peculiar man?" |
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6. |
| 2:49 | ||||
A winter's day
In a deep and dark December; I am alone, Gazing from my window to the streets below On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. I am a rock, I am an island. I've built walls, A fortress deep and mighty, That none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. It's laughter and it's loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island. Don't talk of love, But I've heard the words before; It's sleeping in my memory. I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. If I never loved I never would have cried. I am a rock, I am an island. I have my books And my poetry to protect me; I am shielded in my armor, Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock, I am an island. And a rock feels no pain; And an island never cries." |
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7. |
| 2:56 | ||||
They say that Richard Cory owns
one half of this whole town, With political connections to spread his wealth around. Born into society, a banker's only child, He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style. But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be Richard Cory. The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes: Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show. And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht! Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he's got. But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be Richard Cory. He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch, And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much, So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read: "Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head." But I work in his factory And I curse the life I'm living And I curse my poverty And I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be, Oh, I wish that I could be Richard Cory." |
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8. |
| 3:21 | ||||
I hear the drizzle of the rain Like a memory it falls Soft and warm continuing Tapping on my roof and walls And from the shelter of my mind Through the window of my eyes I gaze beyond the rain drenched streets To England where my heart lies My mind's distracted and diffused My thoughts are many miles away They lie with you when you're asleep kiss you when you start your day as a song I was writing is left undone I don't know why I spend my time Writing songs I can't believe With words that tear and strain to rhyme And so you see I have come to doubt All that I once held as true I stand alone without beliefs The only truth I know is you And as I watch the drops of rain Weave their weary paths and die I know that I am like the rain There but for the grace of you go I |
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9. |
| 3:10 | ||||
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there. She once was a true love of mine. Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, (A hill in the deep forest green) Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme; (Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown) Without no seams nor needle work, (Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain) Then she'll be a true love of mine. (Sleeps unaware of the clarion call) Tell her to find me an acre of land, (On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves) Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme; (Washes the grave with silvery tears) Between the salt water and the sea strand, (A soldier cleans and polishes a gun) Then she'll be a true love of mine. (Sleeps unaware of the clarion call) Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather, (War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions) Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme; (General order their soldiers to kill) And gather it all in a bunch of heather, (And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten) Then she'll be a true love of mine. Are you going to Scarborough Fair? Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Remember me to one who lives there. She once was a true love of mine." |
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10. |
| 2:28 | ||||
I'm sittin' in the railway station
Got a ticket for my destination On a tour of one night stands My suitcase and guitar in hand And every stop is neatly planned For a poet and a one man band Homeward bound I wish I was Homeward bound Home, where my thought's escaping Home, where my music's playing Home, where my love lies waiting Silently for me Everyday's an endless stream Of cigarettes and magazines And each town looks the same to me The movies and the factories And every stranger's face I see Reminds me that I long to be Homeward bound I wish I was Homeward bound Home, where my thought's escaping Home, where my music's playing Home, where my love lies waiting Silently for me Tonight I'll sing my songs again I'll play the game and pretend But all my words come back to me In shades of mediocrity Like emptyness in harmony I need someone to comfort me Homeward bound I wish I was Homeward bound Home, where my thought's escaping Home, where my music's playing Home, where my love lies waiting Silently for me Silently for me Silently for me" |
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11. |
| 3:02 | ||||
Who will love a little sparrow Who's traveled far and cries for rest Not I said the Oak Tree I won't share my branches with no sparrow's nest And my blanket of leaves won't warm her cold breast Who will love a little sparrow And who will speak a kindly word Not I said the Swan The entire idea is utterly absurd I'd be laughed at and scorned if the other swans heard Who will take pity in his heart And who will feed a starving sparrow Not I said the Golden Wheat I would if I could but I cannot I know I need all my grain to prosper and grow Who will love a little sparrow Will no one write her eulogy I will said the Earth For all I've created returns unto me From dust were ye made and dust ye shall be |
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12. |
| 1:54 | ||||
Slow down, you move too fast.
You got to make the morning last. Just kicking down the cobble stones. Looking for fun and feelin' groovy. Hello lamppost, What cha knowing? I've come to watch your flowers growing. Ain't cha got no rhymes for me? Doot-in' doo-doo, Feelin' groovy. Got no deeds to do, No promises to keep. I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep. Let the morning time drop all its petals on me. Life, I love you, All is groovy. |
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13. |
| 2:37 | ||||
It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon, As the sun shines through the curtained lace And shadows wash the room. And we sit and drink our coffee Couched in our indifference, Like shells upon the shore You can hear the ocean roar In the dangling conversation And the superficial sighs, Are the borders of our lives. And you read your Emily Dickinson, And I my Robert Frost, And we note our place with bookmarkers That measure what we've lost. Like a poem poorly written We are verses out of rhythm, Couplets out of rhyme, In syncopated time Lost in the dangling conversation And the superficial sighs, Are the borders of our lives. Yes, we speak of things that matter, With words that must be said, "Can analysis be worthwhile?" "Is the theater really dead?" And how the room is softly faded And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand, You're a stranger now unto me Lost in the dangling conversation. And the superficial sighs, In the borders of our lives." |
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14. |
| 2:05 | ||||
The last train is nearly due
The underground is closing soon And in the dark deserted station Restless in anticipation A man waits in the shadows His restless eyes leap and scratch At all that they can touch or catch And hidden deep within his pocket Safe within its silent socket He holds a colored crayon Now from the tunnel's stony womb The carriage rides to meet the groom And open wide and welcome doors But he hesitates, and then withdraws Deeper in the shadows And the train is gone suddenly On wheels clicking silently Like a gently tapping litany And he holds his crayon rosary Tighter in his hand Now from his pocket quick he flashes The crayon on the wall he slashes Deep upon the advertising A single worded poem consisting Of four letters And his heart is laughing, screaming, pounding The poem across the tracks rebounding Shadowed by the exit light His legs take their ascending flight To seek the breast of darkness and be suckled by the night |
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15. |
| 2:18 | ||||
Time,
Time, Time, see what's become of me While I looked around for my possibilities. I was so hard to please. Look around, Leaves are brown, And the sky is a hazy shade of winter. Hear the Salvation Army band. Down by the riverside's Bound to be a better ride Than what you've got planned. Carry your cup in your hand. And look around. Leaves are brown. And the sky is a hazy shade of winter. Hang on to your hopes, my friend. That's an easy thing to say, But if your hopes should pass away Simply pretend that you can build them again. Look around, The grass is high, The fields are ripe, It's the springtime of my life. Seasons change with the scenery; Weaving time in a tapestry. Won't you stop and remember me At any convenient time? Funny how my memory skips Looking over manuscripts Of unpublished rhyme. Drinking my vodka and lime, I look around, Leaves are brown, And the sky is a hazy shade of winter. |
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16. |
| 2:23 | ||||
I do believe it,
I do believe it's true. It's a light and tumble journey From the East Side to the park; Just a fine and fancy ramble To the zoo. But you can take the crosstown bus If it's raining or it's cold, And the animals will love it If you do. Somethin' tells me It's all happening at the zoo. The monkeys stand for honesty, Giraffes are insincere, And the elephants are kindly but They're dumb. Orangutans are skeptical Of changes in their cages, And the zookeeper is very fond of rum. Zebras are reactionaries, Antelopes are missionaries, Pigeons plot in secrecy, And hamsters turn on frequently. What a gas! You gotta come and see At the zoo." |
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Disc 2 | ||||||
1. |
| 4:03 | ||||
And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo) God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson Heaven holds a place for those who pray (Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey) We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files We'd like to help you learn to help yourself Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes Stroll around the grounds until you feel at home And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo) God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson Heaven holds a place for those who pray (Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey) Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair Most of all, you've got to hide it from the kids Coo, coo, ca-choo, Mrs Robinson Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo) God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson Heaven holds a place for those who pray (Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey) Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon Going to the candidates debate Laugh about it, shout about it When you've got to choose Ev'ry way you look at it, you lose Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio A nation turns its lonely eyes to you (Woo, woo, woo) What's that you say, Mrs. Robinson Joltin' Joe has left and gone away (Hey, hey, hey...hey, hey, hey)" |
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2. |
| 3:17 | ||||
When she goes, she's gone.
If she stays, she stays here. The girl does what she wants to do. She knows what she wants to do. And I know I'm fakin' it, I'm not really makin' it. I'm such a dubious soul, And a walk in the garden Wears me down. Tangled in the fallen vines, Pickin' up the punch lines, I've just been fakin' it, Not really makin' it. Is there any danger? No, no, not really. Just lean on me. Takin' time to treat Your friendly neighbors honestly. I've just been fakin' it, I'm not really makin' it. This feeling of fakin' it-- I still haven't shaken it. Prior to this lifetime I surely was a tailor. ("Good morning, Mr. Leitch. Have you had a busy day?") I own the tailor's face and hands. I am the tailor's face and hands and I know I'm fakin' it, I'm not really makin' it. This feeling of fakin' it-- I still haven't shaken it." |
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3. |
| 2:36 | ||||
Old friends, old friends,
Sat on their parkbench like bookends A newspaper blown through the grass Falls on the round toes of the high shoes of the old friends Old friends, winter companions, the old men Lost in their overcoats, waiting for the sunset The sounds of the city sifting through trees Settles like dust on the shoulders of the old friends Can you imagine us years from today, Sharing a parkbench quietly How terribly strange to be seventy Old friends, memory brushes the same years, Silently sharing the same fears" |
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4. |
| 1:21 | ||||
Time it was and what a time it was.
It was a time of innocence. A time of confidences. Long ago it must be, I have a photograph, Preserve your memories, They're all that's left you |
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5. |
| 3:36 | ||||
"Let us be lovers
we'll marry our fortunes together" "I've got some real estate here in my bag" So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies And we walked off to look for America "Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh "Michigan seems like a dream to me now" It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw I've gone to look for America Laughing on the bus Playing games with the faces She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy I said "Be careful his bowtie is really a camera" "Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat" "We smoked the last one an hour ago" So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine And the moon rose over an open field "Kathy, I'm lost," I said, though I knew she was sleeping I'm empty and aching and I don't know why Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike They've all gone to look for America All gone to look for America All gone to look for America" |
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6. |
| 2:24 | ||||
Why don't we stop fooling ourselves?
The game is over, over, over No good times, no bad times There's no times at all Just The New York Times Sitting on the windowsill Near the flowers We might as well be apart It hardly matters We sleep separately And drop a smile passing in the hall But there's no laughs left 'Cause we laughed them all And we laughed them all In a very short time Time Is tapping on my forehead Hanging from my mirror Rattling the teacups And I wonder How long can I delay? We're just a habit Like Saccharin And I'm habitually feelin' kinda blue But each time I try on The thought of leaving you I stop I stop and think it over |
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7. |
| 3:06 | ||||
I'd rather be
a sparrow than a snail Yes I would if I could I surely would I'd rather be a hammer than a nail Yes I would if I only could I surely would Away I'd rather sail away Like a swan that's here and gone A man gets tied up to the ground He gives the world its saddest sound Its saddest sound I'd rather be a forest than a street Yes I would if I could I surely would I'd rather feel the earth beneath my feet Yes I would if I only could I surely would |
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8. |
| 4:53 | ||||
9. |
| 2:55 | ||||
10. |
| 2:35 | ||||
Gee but it's great to be back home
Home is where I want to be. I've been on the road so long my friend, And if you came along I know you couldn't disagree. CHORUS It's the same old story Everywhere I go, I get slandered, Libeled, I hear words I never heard In the Bible And I'm on step ahead of the shoe shine Two steps away from the county line Just trying to keep my customers satisfied, Satisfied. Deputy Sheriff said to me Tell me what you come here for, boy. You better get your bags and flee. You're in trouble boy, And you're heading into more. CHORUS" |
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11. |
| 3:41 | ||||
So long, Frank Lloyd Wright.
I can't believe your song is gone so soon. I barely learned the tune So soon So soon. I'll remember Frank Lloyd Wright. All of the nights we'd harmonize till dawn. I never laughed so long So long So long. CHORUS Architects may come and Architects may go and Never change your point of view. When I run dry I stop awhile and think of you So long, Frank Lloyd Wright All of the nights we'd harmonize till dawn. I never laughed so long So long So long." |
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12. |
| 5:08 | ||||
I am just a poor boy
though my story's seldom told I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, Such are promises, all lies and jest, Still a man hears what he wants to hear And disregards the rest, hmmmm When I left my home and my family, I's no more than a boy In the company of strangers In the quiet of the railway station, runnin' scared, laying low, Seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go, Looking for the places only they would know. Li la li... Asking only workman's wages, I come lookin' for a job, But I get no offers, Just a come-on from the whores on 7th Avenue. I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there. La la la... (Instrumental bridge) Li la li... And I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone, goin' home Where the New York City winters aren't bleedin' me, leadin' me, goin' home. In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him 'Til he cried out in his anger and his shame I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains. Li la li..." |
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13. |
| 3:17 | ||||
My daddy was the family bassman
My mamma was an engineer And I was born one dark gray morn With music coming in my ears In my ears. CHORUS They call me Baby Driver And once upon a pair of wheels Hit the road and I'm gone ah What's my number I wonder how your engine feels Ba ba ba ba Scoot down the road What's my number I wonder how your engine feels. My daddy was a prominent frogman My mamma's in the Naval reserve When I was young I carried a gun But I never got the chance to serve I did not serve. CHORUS My daddy got a big promotion My mamma got a raise in pay There's no-one home, we're all alone Oh come int my room and play Yes we can play. I'm not talking about your pigtails But I'm talking 'bout your sex appeal Hit the road and I'm gone ah What's my number I wonder how your engine feels. Ba ba ba ba Scoot down the road What's my number I wonder how your engine feels." |
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14. |
| 3:59 | ||||
Tom, get your plane right on time.
I know your part'll go fine. Fly down to Mexico. Da-n-da-da-n-da-n-da-da and here I am, The only living boy in New York. I get the news I need on the weather report. I can gather all the news I need on the weather report. Hey, I've got nothing to do today but smile. Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da here I am The only living boy in New York Half of the time we're gone but we don't know where, And we don't know here. Tom, get your plane right on time. I know you've been eager to fly now. Hey let your honesty shine, shine, shine Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da Like it shines on me The only living boy in New York, The only living boy in New York." |
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15. |
| 1:49 | ||||
Here is my song for the asking
Ask me and I will play So sweetly, I'll make you smile This is my tune for the taking Take it, don't turn away I've been waiting all my life Thinking it over, I've been sad Thinking it over, I'd be more than glad To change my ways for the asking Ask me and I will ply All the love that I hold inside" |
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16. |
| 2:25 | ||||
what a dream I had
Pressed in Organdy Clothed in crinoline Of smocky burgundy Softer than the rain I wandered empty streets down Past the shop displays I heard cathedral bells Tripping down the alleyways As I walked on And when you ran to me Your cheeks fleshed with the night We walked on frosted fields Of juniper and lamplight I held your hand And when I awoke And felt you warm and near I kissed your honey hair With my grateful tears Oh,I live you girl Oh,I love you |
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17. |
| 3:52 | ||||
In my little town
I grew up believ--ing God keeps His eye on us all And He used to lean upon me As I pledged allegiance to the wall Lord I recall My little town Coming home after school Flying my bike past the gates Of the factories My mom doing the laundry Hanging our shirts In the dirty breeze And after it rains There's a rainbow And all of the colors are black It's not that the colors aren't there It's just imagin-ation they lack Everything's the same Back in my little town Nothing but the dead and dying Back in my little town Nothing but the dead and dying Back in my little town In my little town I never meant nothin' I was just my fathers son Saving my money Dreaming of glory Twitching like a finger On the trigger of a gun Leaving nothing but the dead and dying Back in my little town Repeat and fade: Nothing but the dead and dying Back in my little town" |