Lirik Lagu Family Hands - Mary Chapin Carpenter
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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.
(Mary Chapin Carpenter)
Last Sunday we got in the car and we droveTo the town you were raised in, your boyhood homeThe trees were just turning, up on the ridgeAnd this was your valley when you were a kidYou showed me the railroad that your daddy worked onAs we neared the old house where your granny lives onShe's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her sideWho tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide
Raised by the women who are stronger than you knowA patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewnThe threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the mothBy your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
Your grandmother owned a gun in 1932When times were bad just everywhere, you said she used it tooAnd the life and times of everyone are traced inside their palmsHer skin may be so weathered, but her grip is still so strongAnd I see your eyes belong to her and too your mama tooA slice of Virginia sky, the clearest shade of blue
Raised by the women who are stronger than you knowA patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewnThe threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the mothBy your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
And a rich man you might never be, they'd love you just the sameThey've handed down so much to you besides your Christian nameAnd the spoken word won't heal you like the laying on of handsBelonging to the ones who raised you to a man
Raised by the women who are stronger than you knowA patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewnThe threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the mothBy your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
Last Sunday we got in the car and we droveTo the town you were raised in, your boyhood homeThe trees were just turning, up on the ridgeAnd this was your valley when you were a kidYou showed me the railroad that your daddy worked onAs we neared the old house where your granny lives onShe's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her sideWho tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide
Raised by the women who are stronger than you knowA patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewnThe threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the mothBy your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
Your grandmother owned a gun in 1932When times were bad just everywhere, you said she used it tooAnd the life and times of everyone are traced inside their palmsHer skin may be so weathered, but her grip is still so strongAnd I see your eyes belong to her and too your mama tooA slice of Virginia sky, the clearest shade of blue
Raised by the women who are stronger than you knowA patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewnThe threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the mothBy your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
And a rich man you might never be, they'd love you just the sameThey've handed down so much to you besides your Christian nameAnd the spoken word won't heal you like the laying on of handsBelonging to the ones who raised you to a man
Raised by the women who are stronger than you knowA patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewnThe threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the mothBy your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth
