Lirik Lagu North Country Blues - Bob Dylan
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TIPS PENCARIAN LIRIK FAVORIT ANDA
ANDA MENGETAHUI JUDUL DAN NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketikkan nama penyanyi dan judul lagu, berikan tanda kutip di judul lagu, misal: Yovie "Menjaga Hati";
- bila tidak berhasil, coba untuk mengilangkan tanda kutip, misal: Yovie Menjaga Hati; atau
- dapat juga dengan mengeklik menu A B C D.., lalu cari berdasarkan nama artis. Yovie dimulai dengan Y, klik Y. Lihat daftar lagu, dan dapatkan yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketik nama penyanyi, misal: YOVIE, akan muncul banyak halaman, telusuri dan pilih dari halaman-halaman tersebut; atau
- klik menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis Y, cari Yovie, dan cari lirik yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI SYAIR
- Ketikkan penggalan syair yang Anda ketahui, misal:
Tanpamu tiada berarti
Tak mampu lagi berdiri
Cahaya kasihmu menuntunku
Kembali dalam dekapan tanganmu - Masukkan kata-kata penting. Misal: tiada berarti berdiri cahaya dekapan.
- Hindari kata-kata yang berkemungkinan memiliki ada dua versi atau lebih. Misal: tanpamu dapat ditulis tanpa mu.
TETAP TIDAK DAPAT MENEMUKAN LIRIK YANG ANDA CARI
- Pilih menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis atau judul lagu.
- Bila masih tidak dapat menemukan lirik yang Anda cari, mungkin kami bisa membantu Anda. Silakan menghubungi kami.
Come gather 'round friends and I'll tell you a tale, of whenthe red iron pits ran a-plenty.But the cardboard filled windows and old men on the benchestell you now that the whole town is empty.
In the north end of town my own children are grown, but Iwas raised on the other.In the wee hours of youth my mother took sick, and I wasbrought up by my brother.
The iron ore poured as the years passed the door, the draglines an' the shovels they was a-humming.'Til one day my brother failed to come home the same as myfather before him.
Well a long winter's wait from the window I watched. Myfriends they couldn't have been kinder.And my schooling was cut as I quit in the spring to marryJohn Thomas, a miner.
Oh the years passed again, and the givin' was good, with thelunch bucket filled every season.What with three babies born, the work was cut down to a halfa day's shift with no reason.
Then the shaft was soon shut, and more work was cut, and thefire in the air, it felt frozen.'Til a man come to speak, and he said in one week thatnumber eleven was closin'.
They complained in the East, they are paying too high. Theysay that your ore ain't worth digging.That it's much cheaper down in the South American townswhere the miners work almost for nothing.
So the mining gates locked, and the red iron rotted, and theroom smelled heavy from drinking.Where the sad, silent song made the hour twice as long as Iwaited for the sun to go sinking.
I lived by the window as he talked to himself, this silenceof tongues it was building.Then one morning's wake, the bed it was bare, and I's leftalone with three children.
The summer is gone, the ground's turning cold, the storesone by one they're a-foldin'.My children will go as soon as they grow. Well, there ain'tnothing here now to hold them
Submitted by Stephen Sandersteve_sander@cacdsp.com
In the north end of town my own children are grown, but Iwas raised on the other.In the wee hours of youth my mother took sick, and I wasbrought up by my brother.
The iron ore poured as the years passed the door, the draglines an' the shovels they was a-humming.'Til one day my brother failed to come home the same as myfather before him.
Well a long winter's wait from the window I watched. Myfriends they couldn't have been kinder.And my schooling was cut as I quit in the spring to marryJohn Thomas, a miner.
Oh the years passed again, and the givin' was good, with thelunch bucket filled every season.What with three babies born, the work was cut down to a halfa day's shift with no reason.
Then the shaft was soon shut, and more work was cut, and thefire in the air, it felt frozen.'Til a man come to speak, and he said in one week thatnumber eleven was closin'.
They complained in the East, they are paying too high. Theysay that your ore ain't worth digging.That it's much cheaper down in the South American townswhere the miners work almost for nothing.
So the mining gates locked, and the red iron rotted, and theroom smelled heavy from drinking.Where the sad, silent song made the hour twice as long as Iwaited for the sun to go sinking.
I lived by the window as he talked to himself, this silenceof tongues it was building.Then one morning's wake, the bed it was bare, and I's leftalone with three children.
The summer is gone, the ground's turning cold, the storesone by one they're a-foldin'.My children will go as soon as they grow. Well, there ain'tnothing here now to hold them
Submitted by Stephen Sandersteve_sander@cacdsp.com
