Don McLean~Part 2

Don McLean has a cup of tea

Homeless Brother(Written by Don)

I was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,

I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.

It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,

Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.

So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,

Down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,

Where the police cannot find them,

where the wanted men can go.

There's freedom when your walking,

even though you're walking slow. Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,

that homeless brother is my friend. It's hard to be a pack rat, it's hard to be a 'bo,

but living's so much harder where the heartless people go.

Somewhere the dogs are barking and the children seem to know

That Jesus on the highway was a lost hobo.

And they hear the holy silence of the temples in the hill,

And they see the ragged tatters as another kind of thrill.

And they envy him the sunshine and they pity him the chill,

And they're sad to do their living for some other kind of thrill. Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,

that homeless brother is my friend. Somewhere there was a woman,

somewhere there was a child,

Somewhere there was a cottage where the marigolds grew wild.

But some where's just like nowhere when you leave it for a while,

You'll find the broken-hearted when you're travelling jungle-style.

Down the bowels of a broken land where numbers live like men,

Where those who keep their senses have them taken back again,

Where the night stick cracks with crazy rage,

where madmen don't pretend,

Where wealth has no beginning and poverty no end. Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,

that homeless brother is my friend. The ghosts of highway royalty have vanished in the night,

The Whitman wanderer walking toward a glowing inner light.

The children have grown older and the cops have gripped us tight, There's no spot round the melting pot for free men in their flight.

And you who leave on promises and prosper as you please,

The victim of your riches often dies of your disease,

He can't hear the factory whistle,

just the lonesome freight train's wheeze,

He's living on good fortune, he ain't dying on his knees. Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,

that homeless brother is my friend.

that homeless brother is my friend.

Wonderful Baby(Written by Don)

Wonderful baby livin' on love
the sandman says maybe he'll take you above,
up where the girls fly on ribbons and bows,
where babies float by, just counting their toes.

Wonderful baby nothin' but new,
the world has gone crazy, I'm glad ,I'm not you.
At the beginning or is it the end?
It goes in and comes out and starts over again.

Wonderful baby livin' on love
the sandman says maybe he'll take you above,
up where the girls fly on ribbons and bows,
where babies float by, just counting their toes.

Wonderful baby I'll watch while you grow.
If I knew the future you'd be first to know.
But I don't know nothin' of what life's about,
Just as long as you live, you'll never find out.

Wonderful baby, nothin' to fear.
Love whom you will, but doubt what you hear.
They'll whisper sweet things to make untrue.
So be good to yourself, that's all you can do.
You're a wonderful baby livin' on love
the sandman says maybe he'll take you above,
up where the girls fly on ribbons and bows,
where babies float by, just counting their toes,
where babies float by, just counting their toes... Ooh...

Don Mclean-mp3playlist

Don Mclean preforms his beautiful song ~And I Love You So. Cesarea, Israel. January 1979.

Winter Has Me In Its Grip (Written by Don)

Chorus: ***Winter has me in it's grip

Think I'll take a summer trip On a sunny sailing ship

Where the shells lie in the sand.***

I feel so lonely, I'm too young to feel this old.

I need you and you only

When the weather gets this cold.

(chorus)

No use in going

'cause it's cold inside my heart

And it's always snowing

Since the day we broke apart.

(chorus)

I try to run from winter

Like the spring and summer run to fall

But when the weather's in you

There's no hiding place at all.

Castles In The Air(Written by Don)

And if she asks you why,

you can tell her that I told you

That I'm tired of castles in the air. I've got a dream

I want the world to share And castle walls just lead me to despair.

Hills of forest green where the mountains touch the sky,

A dream come true, I'll live there till I die.

I'm asking you to say my last goodbye.

The love we knew ain't worth another try.

Save me from all the trouble and the pain.

I know I'm weak, but I can't face that girl again.

Tell her the reasons why I can't remain,

Perhaps she'll understand if you tell it to her plain.

But how can words express the feel of sunlight

in the morning, In the hills,

away from city strife. I need a country woman

for my wife; I'm city born,

but I love the country life.

For I cannot be part of the cocktail generation:

Partners waltz, devoid of all romance.

The music plays and everyone must dance.

I'm bowing out. I need a second chance.

Save me from all the trouble and the pain.

I know I'm weak, but I can't face that girl again.

Tell her the reasons why I can't remain,

Perhaps she'll understand if you tell it to her plain.

And if she asks you why,

you can tell her that I told you

That I'm tired of castles in the air.

I've got a dream

I want the world to share And castle walls

just lead me to despair.

Till Tomorrow(Written by Don)

What can this be - can you tell me
Would you like to discover
Why we're not free - to be lovers
I've been wanting to ask you

Where has all the love gone
And what have we become
Storm clouds full of thunder
Move silent as they drum

And when they're gone, we'll be fine

till tomorrow
Oh I hope it won't raining
You will be mine - and my sorrow
Will take wings in the morning

High above the heavens
A rainbow paints the sky
White doves sing their songs of love
I watch them as they fly - and wonder

What can this be - can you tell me
Would you like to discover
Why we're not free - to be lovers...

Don McLean (part 3)