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作词 : Pete Townshend |
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作曲 : Pete Townshend |
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Danny laid back and surveyed the view |
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A king on his bench, he was cold, he was blue |
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I asked for permission to give him a note |
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He nodded, not movin', just scratched at his throat |
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|
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Always smiled slightly, seemed so bemused |
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Like he was the one, who was glad to be used |
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I had a sense he was playin' a part |
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But I had to help, for he tore at my heart |
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|
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He would walk, his feet wrapped in rags |
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He wandered the neighborhood, carrying his bags |
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The pride in his eyes would so clearly flash |
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Like I was the one who needed the cash |
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|
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The tramps in our England, have always to walk |
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From Philip to Dorchester, fifteen miles strong |
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The tramps in our country have no where's to hug |
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Home hysterics give comfort, there's no time to talk |
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Danny would lay, he'd never speak |
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Here was a man who had attained his peak |
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No fables to tell, and nothing held back |
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This was a man who had led a strong path |
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|
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Old soldier, perhaps, or a worn, old jailbird |
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Who'd never a hand clean and never a word |
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For two hundred down, my project had fled |
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Danny was gone, or may well have been dead |
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|
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He walked slowly, no hurryin' to death |
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Took in turn his view, with his very last breath |
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The river, the mist and the slightly grey sky |
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Danny was waiting, patient to die |
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|
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The tramps in our England, have always to walk |
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From Philip to Dorchester, fifteen miles strong |
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The tramps in our country have no where's to hug |
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Home hysterics give comfort, there's no time to talk |
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|
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Danny laid back, looked down and the plain |
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The king on his bench with magnificent mane |
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I asked his permission to give him a note |
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He nodded, not movin', just scratched at his throat |
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|
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It's dangerous to faction as those who live rough |
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Danny was a giant, solid and tough |
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He allowed me to gift him and scribble this song |
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Without bein' draconian, he lived just as long |
