Bruce Springsteen
zpěvák, kytarista, multiinstrumentalista
Hodnocení na Kinobox.cz: 74%- Narození:
- 23. září 1949
- Věk:
- 75 let
Upravit profil
Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen zvaný „The Boss“, je americký rockový a folkový zpěvák, kytarista a multiinstrumentalista. Springsteen dlouhodobě spolupracuje se svou kapelou E Street Band. V USA za svou kariéru prodal více než 65 miliónů alb,...
Píseň: Black Cowboys
- Interpret:
- Bruce Springsteen
- Album:
- Devils & Dust
Raney William's playground was among Haven's streets Where he ran past melted candles and flower wreaths Names and photos of the young black faces Whose death and blood consecrated these places Raney's mother said Raney stay at my side For you are my blessing, you are my pride It's your love here that keeps my soul alive I want you to come home from school and stay inside Raney'd do his work and put his books away There was a channel showed a Western movie everyday And that brought him home books on the black cowboys of the Oklahoma range The Seminole scouts that fought the tribes of the Great Plains Summer come and the days grew long Raney always had his mother's smile to depend on Along the street of stray bullets he made his way To the warmth of her arms at the end of each day Come the Fall, the rain flooded these homes In Ezekiel's valley of dry bones It fell hard and dark to the ground It fell without a sound And they took up with a man whose business was the boulevard Whose smile was fixed in a face that was never off guard In the pipes 'neath the kitchen sink his secrets are kept In the day, behind drawn curtains in the next bedroom he slept And she got lost in the days The smile Raney depended on dusted away The arms that held him were no more his own He lay at night his head pressed to her chest listening to the ghost in her bones In the kitchen, Raney slipped his hand between the pipes From a brown bag pulled five hundred dollar bills and stuck it in his coat side Stood in the dark at his mother's bed Brushed her hair and kissed her eyes In the twilight Raney walked to the station on streets of stone Through Pennsylvania and Ohio his train drifted on Through the small towns of Indiana the big train crept As he lay his head back on his seat and slept He woke and the towns gave way to muddy fields of green Corn and cotton and endless nothing in between Over the rutted hills of Oklahoma the red sun slipped and was gone The moon rose and stripped the earth to its bone