Music World
 
Find Artists:
 
 
 
Russian versionSwitch to Russian 
Joan Baez
Joan Baez





Music World  →  Lyrics  →  J  →  Joan Baez  →  Albums  →  The Joan Baez Lovesong Album

Joan Baez Album


The Joan Baez Lovesong Album (1976)
1976
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
. . .


Come all ye fair and tender maidens
Take warning how you court young men
They're like a star of a summer's morning
First they appear and then they're gone.
They'll tell to you some loving story
They'll swear to you their love is true
Straightway they'll go and court another
And that's the love that they had for you.

If I'd a known before I courted
That love it was such a killin' thing
I'd lock my heart in a box of golden
And fastened it up with a silver chain.

O do you remember our days of courtin'
When your head lay upon my breast
You could make me believe with the falling of your eyes
That the sun rose in the west.

I wish I was a little sparrow
And I had wings and I could fly
I'd fly away to my own true lover
And when he speaks I won't deny.

But I am not no little sparrow
I have no wings neither can I fly
I'll sit right down in my grief and sorrow
And let my troubles pass me by.

Come all ye fair and tender maidens
Take warning how you court young men
They're like a star of a summer's morning
First they appear and then they're gone.

. . .


Bob Dylan

My love she speaks like silence
Without ideals or violence
She doesn't have to say she's faithful
Yet she's true, like ice, like fire
People carry roses
Make promises by the hours
My love she laughs like the flowers
Valentines can't buy her

In the dime stores and bus stations
People talk of situations
Read books, repeat quotations
Draw conclusions on the wall
Some speak of the future
My love, she speaks softly
She knows there's no success like failure
And that failure's no success at all

The cloak and dagger dangles
Madams light the candles
In ceremonies of the horsemen
Even the pawn must hold a grudge
Statues made of matchsticks
Crumble into one another
My love winks she does not bother
She knows too much to argue or to judge

The bridge at midnight trembles
The country doctor rambles
Bankers' nieces seek perfection
Expecting all the gifts that wise men bring
The wind howls like a hammer
The night blows cold n' rainy
My love, she's like some raven
At my window with a broken wing

. . .


SWEET SIR GALAHAD
(Words and Music by Joan Baez)

Sweet Sir Galahad
came in through the window
in the night when
the moon was in the yard.
He took her hand in his
and shook the long hair
from his neck and he told her
she'd been working much too hard.
It was true that ever since the day
her crazy man had passed away
to the land of poet's pride,
she laughed and talked alot
with new people on the block
but always at evening time she cried.

And here's to the dawn of their days.

She moved her head
a little down on the bed
until it rested softly on his knee.
And there she dropped her smile
and there she sighed awhile,
and told him all the sadness
of those years that numbered three.
Well you know I think my fate's belated
because of all the hours I waited
for the day when I'd no longer cry.
I get myself to work by eight
but oh, was I born too late,
and do you think I'll fail
at every single thing I try?

And here's to the dawn of their days.

He just put his arm around her
and that's the way I found her
eight months later to the day.
The lines of a smile erased
the tear tracks upon her face,
a smile could linger, even stay.
Sweet Sir Galahad went down
with his gay bride of flowers,
the prince of the hours
of her lifetime.

And here's to the dawn
of their days,
of their days.

. . .


Seems like only yesterday
I left my mind behind
Down in the Gypsy Cafe
With a friend of a friend of mine
Who sat with a baby heavy on her knee
Yet spoke of life most free from slavery
With eyes that showed no trace of misery
A phrase in connection first with she occurred
That love is just a four-letter word

Outside a rattling store-front window
Cats meowed to the break of day
Me, I kept my mouth shut,
To you I had no words to say
My experience was limited and underfed
You were talking while I hid
To the one who was the father of your kid
You probably didn't think I did, but I heard
You say that love is just a four-letter word

I said goodbye unnoticed
Pushed forth into my own games
Drifting in and out of lifetimes
Unmentionable by name
Searching for my double, looking for
Complete evaporation to the core
Though I tried and failed at finding any door
I must have thought that there was nothing more
Absurd than that love is just a four-letter word

Though I never knew just what you meant
When you were speaking to your man
I can only think in terms of me
And now I understand
After waking enough times to think I see
The Holy Kiss that's supposed to last eternity
Blow up in smoke, it's destiny
Falls on strangers, travels free
Yes, I know now, traps are only set by me
And I do not really need to be
Assured that love is just a four-letter word

. . .


For the summertime is comming.
And the leaves are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Blooms around the purple heather

Chorus: Will you go lassie, go?
And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the purple heather
Will you go, lassie go?

If my true love will not go
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme,
All around the purple heather

Chorus....

I will build my love a bower
By yon clear an crystal fountain
And in it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain

Chorus...

. . .


She was a lass from the low country
And he was a lord of high degree
And she loved his lordship so tenderly

Sing sorrow, sing sorrow
And she sleeps in the valley
Where the wildflowers nod
Nobody knows she loved him
But herself and God

One day when the show was on the mead
He passed her by on a milk white steed
She waited as he passed but he paid no heed

Sing sorrow, sing sorrow
And she sleeps in the valley
Where the wildflowers nod
Nobody knows she loved him
But herself and God

So if you be a lass from the low country
Don't love no lord of high degree
For they ain't got no heart or sympathy

Sing sorrow, sing sorrow
And you sleep in the valley
Where the wildflowers nod
Nobody knows you loved him
But yourself and God

. . .


With your mercury mouth in the missionary times,
And your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes,
And your silver cross, and your voice like chimes,
Oh, who among them do they think could bury you?
With your pockets well protected at last,
And your streetcar visions which you place on the grass,
And your flesh like silk, and your face like glass,
Who among them do they think could carry you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I put them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheets like metal and your belt like lace,
And your deck of cards missing the jack and the ace,
And your basement clothes and your hollow face,
Who among them can think he could outguess you?
With your silhouette when the sunlight dims
Into your eyes where the moonlight swims,
And your match-book songs and your gypsy hymns,
Who among them would try to impress you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

The kings of Tyrus with their convict list
Are waiting in line for their geranium kiss,
And you wouldn't know it would happen like this,
But who among them really wants just to kiss you?
With your childhood flames on your midnight rug,
And your Spanish manners and your mother's drugs,
And your cowboy mouth and your curfew plugs,
Who among them do you think could resist you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

Oh, the farmers and the businessmen, they all did decide
To show you the dead angels that they used to hide.
But why did they pick you to sympathize with their side?
Oh, how could they ever mistake you?
They wished you'd accepted the blame for the farm,
But with the sea at your feet and the phony false alarm,
And with the child of a hoodlum wrapped up in your arms,
How could they ever, ever persuade you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

With your sheet-metal memory of Cannery Row,
And your magazine-husband who one day just had to go,
And your gentleness now, which you just can't help but show,
Who among them do you think would employ you?
Now you stand with your thief, you're on his parole
With your holy medallion which your fingertips fold,
And your saintlike face and your ghostlike soul,
Oh, who among them do you think could destroy you?
Sad-eyed lady of the lowlands,
Where the sad-eyed prophet says that no man comes,
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums,
Should I leave them by your gate,
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?

. . .


The joys of love are but a moment long
The pain of love endures the whole life long

Your eyes kissed mine, I saw the love in them shine
You brought me heaven right there when your eyes kissed mine

My love loves me, a world of wonder I see
A rainbow shines thru my window; my love loves me

And now he's gone like a dream that fades in the dawn
But the words stay locked in my heartstrings; my love loves me

Plaisir d'amour ne dure qu'on moment
Chagrin d'amour dure toute la vie

J'ai toute quitte pour l'ingrate Sylvie
Elle me quit et me prend un autre amour

Tant qur cette eau coutera doucement
Vera a ruisseau qui bord la prairie

Je t'amerai, me repetait Sylvie
Mais l'eau coute encore elle a change portant

recorded by Joan Baez

. . .


The House Carpenter

"Well met, well met, my own true love,
well met, well met," cried he.
"I've just returned from the salt, salt sea
all for the love of thee."

"I could have married the King's daughter dear,
she would have married me.
But I have forsaken her crowns of gold
all for the love of thee."

"Well, if you could have married the King's daughter dear, I'm sure you are to blame,
For I am married to a house carpenter,
and find him a nice young man."

"Oh, will you forsake your house carpenter
and go along with me?
I'll take you to where the grass grows green,
to the banks of the salt, salt sea."

"Well, if I should forsake my house carpenter
and go along with thee,
What have you got to maintain me on
and keep me from poverty?"

"Six ships, six ships all out on the sea,
seven more upon dry land,
One hundred and ten all brave sailor men
will be at your command."

She picked up her own wee babe,
kisses gave him three,
Said "Stay right here with my house carpenter
and keep him good company.

Then she putted on her rich attire,
so glorious to behold.
And as she trod along her way,
she shown like the glittering gold.

Well, they'd not been gone but about two weeks,
I know it was not three.
When this fair lady began to weep,
she wept most bitterly.

"Ah, why do you weep, my fair young maid,
weep it for your golden store?
Or do you weep for your house carpenter
who never you shall see anymore?"

"I do not weep for my house carpenter
or for any golden store.
I do weep for my own wee babe,
who never I shall see anymore."

Well, they'd not been gone but about three weeks,
I'm sure it was not four.
Our gallant ship sprang a leak and sank,
never to rise anymore.

One time around spun our gallant ship,
two times around spun she,
Three times around spun our gallant ship
and sank to the bottom of the sea.

"What hills, what hills are those, my love,
that rise so fair and high?"
"Those are the hills of heaven, my love,
but not for you and I."

"And what hills, what hills are those, my love,
those hills so dark and low?"
"Those are the hills of hell, my love,
where you and I must go."

. . .


Once I had sweetheart, and now I have none,
Once I had sweetheart, and now I have none,
She's gone and leave me, she's gone and leave me,
She's gone and leave me to sorrow and moan.

Last night in sweet slumber I dreamed I did see,
Last night in sweet slumber I dreamed I did see,
My own precious jewel sat smiling by me,
My own precious jewel sat smiling by me.

And when I awakened I found it not so,
And when I awakened I found it not so,
My eyes like some fountain with tears overflow,
My eyes like some fountain with tears overflow.

I'll venture through England, through France and through Spain,
I'll venture through England, through France and through Spain,
All my life I will venture the watery main,
All my life I will venture the watery main.

Once I sweetheart, and now I have none,
Once I sweetheart, and now I have none,
She's gone and leave me, she's gone and leave me,
She's gone and leave me to sorrow and moan.

. . .


And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

First he give me one,
Then he give me two
And he give me three and I holler
"Lord have mercy"

And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

First we go in a room,
Make me mama no know
Make me lie on a sofa,
Make me have-a me labor

And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

Give me back me shillin',
Give me back me shillin'
You can stand on your own feet now,
Give me back me shillin'

And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

Hold me tight, hold me tight,
Danger waters coming baby
Hold me tight
Hold me tight, hold me tight,
Danger water coming, baby,
Hold me

And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

And I holler why,
And I holler why
And I holler why,
The tortoise boy no mon ami!

. . .


Oh, Mary was a maiden
When the birds began to sing.
She was sweeter than the blooming rose
So early in the spring.
Her thoughts were gay and happy
And the morning gay and fine,
For her lover was a river boy
From the river in the pines.

Now Charlie, he got married
To his Mary in the spring
When the trees were budding early
And the birds began to sing.
But early in the autumn
When the fruit is in the wine,
I'll return to you, my darling
From the river in the pines.

It was early in the morning
In Wisconsin's dreary clime
When he rode the fatal rapids
For that last and fatal time.
They found his body lying
On the rocky shore below
Where the silent water ripples
And the whispering cedars blow.

Now every raft of lumber
That comes down the Chippewa,
There's a lonely grave that's
Visited by drivers on their way
They plant wild flowers upon it
In the morning fair and fine.
'Tis the grave of two young lovers
From the river in the pines

. . .


(Donovan Leitch)

1- Your smile - beams like sunlight - on a gull's wing
and the leaves - dance and play - after you
Take my hand - and hold it - as you would a flower
take care with my heart - oh darling - she's made of glass

2- Your eyes - feel like silence - resting on me
and the birds - cease to sing - when you rise
Ride easy - your fairy stallion - you have mounted
take care how you fly - my precious - you might fall down

4- In the pastel skies - the sunset - I have wandered
with my eyes and ears and heart - strained to the full
I know I tasted the essence - in the few days
take care who you love - my precious - he might not know

. . .


Queen Jane lay in labor
For six weeks and more
The women grew weary
And the midwife gave o'er

King Henry, he was sent for
On horse back and speed
King Henry came to her
In the time of her need

Oh Henry, good King Henry
If that you do be
Please pierce my side open
And save my baby

Oh no Jane, good Queen Jane
That never could be
I'd lose my sweet flower
To save my baby

Queen Jane she turned over
She fell all in a swoon
Her side was pierced open
And the baby was found

How bright was the morning
How yellow was the moon
How costly the white coat
Queen Jane was wrapped in

King Henry he weeped
He wrung his hands 'til they're sore
The flower of England
Will never be no more

. . .


on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the merry deer ran before.

Fleeter be they than dappled dreams
the swift sweet deer
the red rare deer.

Four red roebuck at a white water
the cruel bugle sang before.

Horn at hip went my love riding
riding the echo down
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the level meadows ran before.

Softer be they than slippered sleep
the lean lithe deer
the fleet flown deer.

Four fleet does at a gold valley
the famished arrow sang before.

Bow at belt went my love riding
riding the mountain down
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the sheer peaks ran before.

Paler be they than daunting death
the sleek slim deer
the tall tense deer.

Four tell stags at a green mountain
the lucky hunter sang before.

All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
my heart fell dead before.

. . .


Once I knew a pretty girl
I loved her as my life
I'd gladly give my heart and hand
To make her my wife
Ooh, to make her my wife

She took me by the hand
She led me to the door
She put her arms around me
Saying, "Please don't come no more"
Ooh, Please, come no more

Well, I'd not been gone
But about six months
When she did complain
And she wrote me a letter
Saying, "please come back again."
Ooh, Please, come again

So I sent her an answer
Just for to let her know
That no young man should venture
Where once he could not go
Ooh, Where once he could not go.

So come all you young lovers
Take a warning from me
And never hang your affections
On a green, growing tree
Ooh, on a green, growing tree

For the leaves they will wither
Roots will decay
And the beauty of a young girl
Will soon fade away
Ooh, will soon fade away

. . .


(revised version sung by Joan Baez)


Cold blows the wind to my true love,
And gently drops the rain.
I've never had but one true love,
And in green-wood he lies slain.

I'll do as much for my true love,
As any young girl may,
I'll sit and mourn all on his grave,
For twelve months and a day.

And when twelve months and a day was passed,
The ghost did rise and speak,
"Why sittest thou all on my grave
And will no let me sleep?"

"Go fetch me water from the desert,
And blood from out the stone,
Go fetch me milk from a fair maid's breast
That young man never has known."

"How oft on yonder grave, sweetheart,
Where we were want to walk,
The fairest flower that e'er I saw
Has withered to a stalk."

"A stalk has withered and dead, sweetheart,
The flower will never return,
And since I've lost my own true love,
What can I do but yearn."

"When will we meet again, sweetheart,
When will we meet again?"
"When the autumn leaves that fall from the trees
Are green and spring up again."

The Unquiet Grave (Child #78)
Traditional Folk Song
From "Joan Baez 5"
sung by Joan Baez (5), Frankie Armstrong
(Lovely on Water), Ian Campbell, and Patons

. . .


So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night
Though the heart be still as loving
And the moon be still as bright

For the sword outwears the sheath
And the soul wears out the breast
And the heart must pause to breathe
And love itself must rest

Though the night was made for loving
And the day returns too soon
Still we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon

. . .


blog comments powered by Disqus



© 2011 Music World. All rights reserved.