jeudi, août 02, 2012

“Truckin’”
Truckin’ got my chips cashed in
Keep truckin’ like the doodah man
Together, more or less in line
Just keep truckin’ on
Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street
Chicago, New York, Detroit and its all the same street
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings
Dallas got a soft machine
Houston too close to New Orleans
New York got the ways and means
But just won’t let you be
Most of the cats that you meet on the street speak of true love
Most of the time they’re sitting and crying at home
One of these days they know they gotta get going
Out of the door and into the street all alone
Truckin’ like the doodah man
Once told me “Gotta play your hand
Sometimes the cards ain’t worth a dime
If you don’t lay them down”
Sometimes the lights all shining on me
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me
What a long strange trip it’s been
What in the world ever became of sweet Jane?
She lost her sparkle you know she isn’t the same
Living on reds and vitamin C and cocaine
All her friends can say is ain’t it a shame
Truckin’ up to Buffalo
Been thinking you got to mellow slow
Takes time, you pick a place to go
Just keep truckin’ on
Sitting and staring out of the hotel window
Got a tip they’re gonna kick the door in again
Like to get some sleep before I travel
But if you got a warrant I guess you’re gonna come in
Busted down on Bourbon Street
Set up like a bowling pin
Knocked down, it gets to wearing thin
They just won’t let you be
You’re sick of hanging around, you’d like to travel
Get tired of travelling you want to settle down
I guess they can’t revoke your soul for trying
Get out of the door, light out and look all around
Sometimes the lights all shining on me
Other times I can barely see
Lately it occurs to me
What a long strange trip it’s been
Truckin’ I’m a going home
Whoa, whoa, baby, back where I belong
Back home, sit down and patch my bones
And get back truckin’ on

Lyrics By Robert Hunter, Music By Jerry Garcia/Bob Weir/Phil Lesh
“Jack And Diane”
Little ditty about Jack and Diane
Two American kids growin’ up in the heartland
Jacky’s gonna be a football star
Diane debutante backseat of Jacky’s car
Suckin’ on a chili dog outside the Tastee Freeze
Diane’s sittin’ on Jacky’s lap, he’s got his hands between her knees
Jacky say, “Hey Diane lets run off behind a shady tree
Dribble off those Bobby brooks, let me do what I please”
And say a
“Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone”
Say, “Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone, now rock on”
Jacky sits back reflects his thoughts for the moment
Scratches his head and does his best James Dean
Well you know Diane, we oughtta run of the city
Diane says “Baby, you ain’t missin’ nothin’”
Jacky say a
“Oh yeah life goes on Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone
Oh yeah say life goes on Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone”
Gonna let it rock
Let it roll
Let the Bible belt come down and save my soul
Hold on to 16 as long as you can
Changes come around real soon, make us women and men
Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone
Oh yeah say life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin’ is gone
A little ditty about Jack and Diane
Two American kids doin’ the best they can
written by John Mellencamp
 The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest
Well, Frankie Lee and Judas Priest
They were the best of friends
So when Frankie Lee needed money one day
Judas quickly pulled out a roll of tens
And placed them on a footstool
Just above the plotted plain
Sayin’, “Take your pick, Frankie Boy
My loss will be your gain”
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat right down
And put his fingers to his chin
But with the cold eyes of Judas on him
His head began to spin
“Would ya please not stare at me like that,” he said
“It’s just my foolish pride
But sometimes a man must be alone
And this is no place to hide”
Well, Judas, he just winked and said
“All right, I’ll leave you here
But you’d better hurry up and choose which of those bills you want
Before they all disappear”
“I’m gonna start my pickin’ right now
Just tell me where you’ll be”
Judas pointed down the road
And said, “Eternity!”
 “Eternity?” said Frankie Lee
With a voice as cold as ice
“That’s right,” said Judas Priest, “Eternity
Though you might call it ‘Paradise’”
“I don’t call it anything”
Said Frankie Lee with a smile
“All right,” said Judas Priest
“I’ll see you after a while”
Well, Frankie Lee, he sat back down
Feelin’ low and mean
When just then a passing stranger
Burst upon the scene
Saying, “Are you Frankie Lee, the gambler
Whose father is deceased?
Well, if you are, there’s a fellow callin’ you down the road
And they say his name is Priest”
Said Frankie Lee in fright
“I do recall him very well
In fact, he just left my sight”
“Yes, that’s the one,” said the stranger
As quiet as a mouse
“Well, my message is, he’s down the road
Stranded in a house”
Well, Frankie Lee, he panicked
He dropped ev’rything and ran
Until he came up to the spot
Where Judas Priest did stand
“What kind of house is this,” he said
“Where I have come to roam?”
“It’s not a house,” said Judas Priest
“It’s not a house . . . it’s a home”
Well, Frankie Lee, he trembled
He soon lost all control
Over ev’rything which he had made
While the mission bells did toll
He just stood there staring
At that big house as bright as any sun
With four and twenty windows
And a woman’s face in ev’ry one
Well, up the stairs ran Frankie Lee
With a soulful, bounding leap
And, foaming at the mouth
He began to make his midnight creep
For sixteen nights and days he raved
But on the seventeenth he burst
Into the arms of Judas Priest
Which is where he died of thirst
No one tried to say a thing
When they took him out in jest
Except, of course, the little neighbor boy
Who carried him to rest
And he just walked along, alone
With his guilt so well concealed
And muttered underneath his breath
“Nothing is revealed”
Well, the moral of the story
The moral of this song
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong
So when you see your neighbor carryin’ somethin’
Help him with his load
And don’t go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road
- Written by Bob Dylan