《Ballad Of The Harp Weaver》歌词

[00:00:00] Ballad Of The Harp Weaver - Johnny Cash (约翰尼·卡什)

[00:00:03] Son said my mother when I was knee high

[00:00:07] You need of clothes to cover you and not a rag have I

[00:00:13] There's nothing in the house to make a boy's britches

[00:00:16] Nor shears to cut a neither cloth with nor thread to take stitches

[00:00:21] There's nothing in the house but a leaf end of rye

[00:00:24] And the harp with a with the woman's head nobody will by and she began to cry

[00:00:33] That was in the early fall and when came the late fall

[00:00:38] Son she said the sight of you makes your mother's blood crawl

[00:00:42] Little skinny shoulder blades stickin' through your clothes

[00:00:45] And where you get a jacket from god above knows

[00:00:51] It's lucky for me lad your daddy's in the ground

[00:00:54] And can't see the way I let his son go around and she made a queer sound

[00:01:02] That was in the late fall when the winter came

[00:01:06] I'd not a pair of bridges nor a shirt to my name

[00:01:09] I couldn't go to school or out of doors to play

[00:01:14] And all the other little boys passed our way

[00:01:18] Son said my mother come climb into my lap

[00:01:21] And I'll chive your little knees while you take a nap

[00:01:24] And oh but we were silly for half an hour or more

[00:01:27] Me with my long legs draggin' on the floor

[00:01:30] I rocked rocked rocked to a mother goose rhyme

[00:01:34] Oh but we were happy for half an hour's time

[00:01:40] But there was I a great boy and what would folks say

[00:01:44] To hear my mother singin' me to sleep all day in such a daft way

[00:01:50] Men say the winter was bad that year fuel was scarce and food was dear

[00:01:55] A wind with a wolf's head howled about our door

[00:01:57] And we burned up the chairs and sat upon the floor

[00:02:02] All that was left us was a chair we couldn't break

[00:02:05] And the harp with the woman's head nobody would take for song or pity sake

[00:02:13] The night before Christmas I cried with the cold

[00:02:17] I cried myself to sleep like a two year old

[00:02:21] And in the deep night I felt my mother rise

[00:02:26] And stare down upon me with love in her eyes

[00:02:30] I saw my mother sitting on the one good chair

[00:02:33] A light falling on her face from I couldn't tell where

[00:02:39] Looking nineteen and not a day older

[00:02:42] And the harp with the woman's head leaned against her shoulder

[00:02:46] Her thin fingers moving in the thin tall strings

[00:02:50] Were weave weave weaving wonderful things

[00:02:55] Many bright threads from where I couldn't see

[00:02:58] Were running through the harp strings rapidly

[00:03:00] And gold threads whistlin' through my mother's hands

[00:03:04] I saw the web grow and the pattern expand

[00:03:08] She wove a child's jacket and when it was done

[00:03:10] She laid it on the floor and wove another one

[00:03:13] She wove a red cloak so regal to see

[00:03:16] She's made it for a king's son I said and not for me

[00:03:19] But I knew it was for me

[00:03:21] She wove a pair of bridges and quicker than that

[00:03:23] She wove a pair of boots a little cocked hat

[00:03:25] She wove a pair of mittens she wove a little blouse

[00:03:27] She wove all night in the still cold house

[00:03:32] She sang as she worked and the harp strings spoke

[00:03:36] But her voice never faltered and the thread never broke

[00:03:41] But when I awoke there sat my mother

[00:03:46] With the harp against her shoulder lookin' nineteen and not a day older

[00:03:52] A smile about her lips and a light about her head

[00:03:57] And her hands in the harp strings frozen dead

[00:04:03] And piled up beside her toppling to the skies

[00:04:08] Were the clothes of a king's son just my size