Luyện nghe bài hát Sad - Eyed Lady of The Lowlands

With mercury mouth in the missionary times,
And your eyes like smoke and prayers like rhymes,
And your silver cross, and your like chimes,
Oh, do think could bury you?
With your pockets well at last,
And your streetcar visions which you on the grass,
And your like silk, and your face like glass,
Who could they get to carry

Sad-eyed of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my drums,
I put them by your gate,
Or, lady, should I wait?

With your sheets like metal and your belt lace,
And deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,
And your basement and your hollow face,
Who among can think he could outguess you?
With your silhouette the sunlight dims
Into your eyes the moonlight swims,
And match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,
Who among them would try to you?

lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed says that no man comes,
My eyes, my Arabian drums,
I put them by your gate,
Or, lady, should I wait?

The of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for geranium kiss,
And you wouldn't know it happen like this,
But who among them really wants just to you?
With your flames on your midnight rug,
And your manners and your mother's drugs,
And your cowboy and your curfew plugs,
Who among them do you think could resist

lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my drums,
Should I leave by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, I wait?

Oh, the and the businessmen, they all did decide
To show you the angels that they used to hide.
But why did they pick you to sympathize with side?
Oh, how could they ever mistake
They wished accepted the blame for the farm,
But the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm,
And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in arms,
How could they ever, ever you?

Sad-eyed of the lowlands,
Where the prophet says that no man comes,
My eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, I wait?

With your sheet-metal memory of Row,
And magazine-husband who one day just had to go,
And your gentleness now, which you just can't but show,
Who among them do you think employ you?
Now you stand your thief, you're on his parole
With your holy medallion which your fold,
And your face and your ghostlike soul,
Oh, who among do you think could destroy you?

lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my drums,
Should I leave them by gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, I wait?