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Tom Russell - Tramps & Hawkers (The Rose of the San Joaquin, 2011) | Текст песни

I choose to see not the things that be or the miles and the years that have gone
I pay no heed to tomorrow's need, I'm blinded by the snow and the sun
Till all I can see is my darling and me, like young flowers blooming in spring
Like flowers we grew and no other I knew but the rose of the San Joaquin

The gypsies dance while stealing a glance at a seed that might blow in the wind
And the fields are worked in a sweat-stained shirt, then the workers move on again
And the tramps and hawkers with stories wild beguile a young boy's dreams
Enticing me to leave my home and the rose of the San Joaquin

I've watched the rise of light in the sky where the sun climbs out of the sea
Seen giants fall in mountains tall where the lumbermen cut down the trees
I've played in the sand with the Gulf Coast wind, fell asleep in the grass tall and green
But nowhere I've been would I go back again except to the San Joaquin

Well, the road back home is hard and it's long and the miles they turn into years
And the tramps and hawkers in every town, oh God, but it brings me to tears
When I got home I found just a flower on a mound where it shamed the green grasses of spring
It grew from the grave of my darling little girl, the rose of the San Joaquin

Oh see us today out on your highway or asleep in the doors of a train
See the gypsies dance with their damn knowing glances, hear the peddlers shout out their refrain
And who's gonna care, and who's gonna share all the joys and sorrows we've seen?
Like ghosts we roam without friends or home, these tramps and hawkers and me
Like ghosts we roam without friends or home, these tramps and hawkers and me.

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