Luyện nghe bài hát Sad - Eyed Lady of The Lowlands

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

lady of the lowlands,
Where the prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my drums,
Should I put them by gate,
Or, lady, should I wait?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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