Accords et paroles Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands Bob Dylan

Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands

Bob Dylan

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 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 leave 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 sillouette 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 ?            
 Refrain
 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 ?       
 Refrain
 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 ?             
 Refrain
 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 ?  
 Refrain

Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands

Bob Dylan

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