Lirik Lagu There Was Only One Choice - Harry Chapin
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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.
There's a kid out on my corner -- hear him strumming like a foolShivering in his dungarees -- but still he's going to schoolHis cheeks are made of peach fuzz -- his hopes may be the sameBut he's signed up as a soldier out to play the music game
There are fake patches on his jacket -- he's used bleach to fade his jeansWith a brand new stay pressed shirt -- and some creased and wrinkled dreamsHis face a blemish garden -- but his eyes are virgin clearHis voice is Chicken Little's -- But he's hearing Paul Revere
When he catches himself giggling -- he forces up a sneerThough he'd rather have a milk shake -- he keeps forcing down the beerJust another folkie -- late in coming down the pikeRiding his guitar -- he left Kid brother with his bike
And he's got Guthrie running in his bonesHe's the hobo kid who's left his homeAnd his Beatles records and the Rolling StonesThis boy is staying acoustic.There's Seeger singing in his heartHe hopes his songs will somehow startTo heal the cracks that split apartAmerica gone plastic
And now there's Dylan dripping from his mouthHe's hitching himself way down southTo learn a little black and bluesFrom old street men who paid their dues'Cause they knew they had nothing to loseThey knew itSo they just got to it
With cracked old Gibsons and red clay shoesPlaying 1-4-5 chords like good newsAnd cursed with skin that calls for bloodThey put their face and feet in mudBut oh they learned the music from way down thereThe real ones learn it somewhere
Strum your guitar -- sing it kidJust write about your feelings -- not the things you never didInexperience -- it once had cursed meBut your youth is no handicap -- it's what makes you thirsty
Hey, kid you know you can hear your footsteps as you're kicking up the dustAnd the rustling in the shadows tells you secret
There are fake patches on his jacket -- he's used bleach to fade his jeansWith a brand new stay pressed shirt -- and some creased and wrinkled dreamsHis face a blemish garden -- but his eyes are virgin clearHis voice is Chicken Little's -- But he's hearing Paul Revere
When he catches himself giggling -- he forces up a sneerThough he'd rather have a milk shake -- he keeps forcing down the beerJust another folkie -- late in coming down the pikeRiding his guitar -- he left Kid brother with his bike
And he's got Guthrie running in his bonesHe's the hobo kid who's left his homeAnd his Beatles records and the Rolling StonesThis boy is staying acoustic.There's Seeger singing in his heartHe hopes his songs will somehow startTo heal the cracks that split apartAmerica gone plastic
And now there's Dylan dripping from his mouthHe's hitching himself way down southTo learn a little black and bluesFrom old street men who paid their dues'Cause they knew they had nothing to loseThey knew itSo they just got to it
With cracked old Gibsons and red clay shoesPlaying 1-4-5 chords like good newsAnd cursed with skin that calls for bloodThey put their face and feet in mudBut oh they learned the music from way down thereThe real ones learn it somewhere
Strum your guitar -- sing it kidJust write about your feelings -- not the things you never didInexperience -- it once had cursed meBut your youth is no handicap -- it's what makes you thirsty
Hey, kid you know you can hear your footsteps as you're kicking up the dustAnd the rustling in the shadows tells you secret
