作曲 : Bruce Springsteen I wake and take your picture from my night table With a kiss, I place it on the shelf Give you my mornin’ prayer It’s a weakness I allow myself In the kitchen, I make the coffee As the sun’s first light through the window streams I wake your brother Roberto from his dreams I throw my tools in the truck bed From the San Fernando into the hills As the gray morning clouds Over the hilltop stream I follow them down Into the cool rich canyons of grain And my mind drifts to you From the northern mountains The water comes and the city blooms The Santa Anna’s breathe so dry and dusty Through the villa rooms Bougainvillea blossom Red and white ‘round the entry door And the roses rise so perfectly out of the desert floor Your memory is my desire My daughter, if my sorrow is my sin With my work here in this garden, we’ll both live again I trim the eucalyptus That her branches may be free, my love That the wind may find a way Through to the dark sky above That day your mother On the porch waiting Now I watch the branches drifting And my heart fills with you At night I feel your spirit As the day’s weariness I embrace I visit you in the brave beauty of your mother’s sleeping face Now, Ramona, when the dark comes drifting in And these rooms lie sweetened by the dry desert wind Tell me how How will my heart ever mend If I can never touch you or feel you breathe again In my dreams, the earth to which I have given you Opens below me where I stand I slip beneath the moist soil Through the cool dust and desert sand I hold your face I hold your face in my hands I wake early in the morning Today, I’ll cut the roses from their stems
[00:00.000] 作曲 : Bruce Springsteen [00:12.558]I wake and take your picture from my night table [00:17.708]With a kiss, I place it on the shelf [00:21.647]Give you my mornin’ prayer [00:25.955]It’s a weakness I allow myself [00:30.690]In the kitchen, I make the coffee [00:34.785]As the sun’s first light through the window streams [00:39.728]I wake your brother Roberto from his dreams [00:46.425]I throw my tools in the truck bed [00:50.899]From the San Fernando into the hills [00:55.445]As the gray morning clouds [00:59.854]Over the hilltop stream [01:05.259]I follow them down [01:08.924]Into the cool rich canyons of grain [01:13.213]And my mind drifts to you [01:18.562]From the northern mountains [01:22.504]The water comes and the city blooms [01:25.737]The Santa Anna’s breathe so dry and dusty [01:31.675]Through the villa rooms [01:36.791]Bougainvillea blossom [01:40.601]Red and white ‘round the entry door [01:45.258]And the roses rise so perfectly out of the desert floor [01:52.006]Your memory is my desire [01:56.559]My daughter, if my sorrow is my sin [02:01.076]With my work here in this garden, we’ll both live again [02:08.170]I trim the eucalyptus [02:12.418]That her branches may be free, my love [02:16.638]That the wind may find a way [02:21.641]Through to the dark sky above [02:26.809]That day your mother [02:30.766]On the porch waiting [02:34.994]Now I watch the branches drifting [02:37.294]And my heart fills with you [02:42.657]At night I feel your spirit [02:45.232]As the day’s weariness I embrace [02:50.694]I visit you in the brave beauty of your mother’s sleeping face [02:58.511]Now, Ramona, when the dark comes drifting in [03:06.519]And these rooms lie sweetened by the dry desert wind [03:14.359]Tell me how [03:17.741]How will my heart ever mend [03:22.696]If I can never touch you or feel you breathe again [03:36.063]In my dreams, the earth to which I have given you [03:40.433]Opens below me where I stand [03:44.947]I slip beneath the moist soil [03:49.402]Through the cool dust and desert sand [03:54.879]I hold your face [03:59.066]I hold your face in my hands [04:03.518]I wake early in the morning [04:06.449]Today, I’ll cut the roses from their stems
