“Solitude standing” 1987
SUZANNE VEGA, UNE PERSONNALITE, UN STYLE !
It's a one time thing
It just happens
A lot
Walk with me
And we will see
What we have got
Ah...
My footsteps are ticking
Like water dripping from a tree
Walking a harline
And stepping very carefully
Ah...
My heart is broken
It is worn out at the knees
Hearing muffled
Seeing blind
Soon it will hit the Deep Freeze
And something is cracking
I don't know where
Ice on the sidewalk
Brittle braches
In the air
The sun
Is blinding
Dizzy golden, dancing green
Through the park in the afternoon
Wondering where the hell
I have been
Ah...
--
In the ironbound section near Avenue L
where the Portuguese women come to see what you sell
the clouds so low the morning so slow
as the wires cut through the sky
The beams and bridges cut the light on the ground
into little triangles and the rails run round
through the rust and the heat
the light and sweet coffee color of her skin
Bound up in wire and fate
watching her walk him up to the gate
in front of the ironbound school yard.
Kids will grow like weeds on a fence
She says they look for the light they try to make sense.
They come up through the cracks
Like grass on the tracks
She touches him goodbye.
Steps off the curb and into the street
SUZANNE VEGA, UNE PERSONNALITE, UN STYLE !
It's a one time thing
It just happens
A lot
Walk with me
And we will see
What we have got
Ah...
My footsteps are ticking
Like water dripping from a tree
Walking a harline
And stepping very carefully
Ah...
My heart is broken
It is worn out at the knees
Hearing muffled
Seeing blind
Soon it will hit the Deep Freeze
And something is cracking
I don't know where
Ice on the sidewalk
Brittle braches
In the air
The sun
Is blinding
Dizzy golden, dancing green
Through the park in the afternoon
Wondering where the hell
I have been
Ah...
--
In the ironbound section near Avenue L
where the Portuguese women come to see what you sell
the clouds so low the morning so slow
as the wires cut through the sky
The beams and bridges cut the light on the ground
into little triangles and the rails run round
through the rust and the heat
the light and sweet coffee color of her skin
Bound up in wire and fate
watching her walk him up to the gate
in front of the ironbound school yard.
Kids will grow like weeds on a fence
She says they look for the light they try to make sense.
They come up through the cracks
Like grass on the tracks
She touches him goodbye.
Steps off the curb and into the street
Category
🎵
Musique