《Ballad Of The Harp Weaver》歌词

[00:00:00] The Ballad of 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

[00:00:17] Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to

[00:00:19] Take stitches

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

[00:00:25] And the harp with a with the woman's head nobody

[00:00:28] Will by and she began to cry

[00:00:34] That was in the early fall and when came the late fall

[00:00:39] Son she said the sight of you

[00:00:40] Makes your mother's blood crawl

[00:00:42] Little skinny shoulder blades stickin through

[00:00:44] Your clothes

[00:00:46] And where you get a jacket from God above knows

[00:00:52] It's lucky for me lad your daddy's in the ground

[00:00:55] And can't see the way I let his son go around

[00:00:59] 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

[00:01:10] I couldn't go to school or out of doors to play

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

[00:01:19] Son said my mother come climb into my lap

[00:01:22] And I'll chave your little knees while you take a nap

[00:01:25] And oh but we were silly for half an hour or more

[00:01:28] Me with my long legs draggin' on the floor

[00:01:31] I rocked rocked rocked to a mother goose rhyme

[00:01:35] Oh but we were happy for half an hour's time

[00:01:41] But there was I a great boy and what would folks say

[00:01:46] To hear my mother singin' me to sleep

[00:01:48] All day in such a daft way

[00:01:54] Men say the winter was bad that year fuel was scarce

[00:01:57] And food was dear

[00:01:58] A wind with a wolf's head howled about our door

[00:02:01] And we burned up the chairs and sat upon the floor

[00:02:06] All that was left us was a chair we couldn't break

[00:02:09] And the harp with the woman's head

[00:02:12] Nobody would take for song or pity sake

[00:02:17] The night before Christmas I cried with the cold

[00:02:21] I cried myself to sleep like a two year old

[00:02:25] And in the deep night I felt my mother rise

[00:02:30] And stare down upon me with love in her eyes

[00:02:34] I saw my mother sitting on the one good chair

[00:02:36] A light falling on her face from I couldn't tell where

[00:02:43] Looking nineteen and not a day older

[00:02:46] And the harp with the woman's head

[00:02:48] Leaned against her shoulder

[00:02:50] Her thin fingers moving in the thin tall strings

[00:02:55] Were weave weave weaving wonderful things

[00:02:59] Many bright threads from where I couldn't see

[00:03:02] Were running through the harp strings rapidly

[00:03:04] And gold threads whistlin' through my mother's hands

[00:03:08] I saw the web grow and the pattern expand

[00:03:12] She wove a child's jacket and when it was done

[00:03:15] She laid it on the floor and wove another one

[00:03:17] She wove a red cloak so regal to see

[00:03:20] She's made it for a king's son I said and not for me

[00:03:23] But I knew it was for me

[00:03:25] She wove a pair of bridges and quicker than that

[00:03:27] She wove a pair of boots a little cocked hat

[00:03:29] She wove a pair of mittens she wove a little blouse

[00:03:32] She wove all night in the still cold house

[00:03:36] She sang as she worked and the harp strings spoke

[00:03:41] But her voice never faltered and the thread never broke

[00:03:45] But when I awoke there sat my mother

[00:03:50] With the harp against her shoulder looking

[00:03:53] Nineteen and not a day older

[00:03:56] A smile about her lips and a light about her head

[00:04:01] And her hands in the harp strings frozen dead

[00:04:07] And piled up beside her toppling to the skies

[00:04:12] Were the clothes of a king's son just my size