Henry's Songbook

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Tomorrow, You're Gone

  • (Christine Lavin)

    You're a rambler, you're a singer of songs
    And the songs and the friends and the years roll along
    You've got to keep moving, keep travelling on
    The road's calling you and tomorrow, you're gone

    Up there on the stage you're alone in the lights
    Trying to charm them all night after night
    They clap their hands for you, they all wish you well
    They go home to their families, you go to hotels
    Where there's cranky bartenders and old chambermaids
    And young waitresses who might like to get laid
    Some treat you badly and some with respect
    The faces stay with you, the names you forget

    Some call you a rambler, some call you a rogue
    Some say you're a gambler, some say you're a joke
    If I knew you better I might not agree
    But all I know of you is what I can see
    With your banjo and songs and the light in your eyes
    You come on so strong, you appear to be wise
    But when it's all over there's nothing to do
    But sit in the bar, and you drink quite a few

    And you want to believe when they say you're the best
    You're scared they just say that because you're the guest
    You need what you're getting up there on the stage
    So you smile and you lie when they ask you your age
    It's nothing you've said, I just think I can tell
    You're a travelling salesman, it's songs that you sell
    You're trapped in the car and the club and hotel
    You're trapped in the music that you love so well

    (as sung by Iain MacKintosh)

Susannes Folksong-Notizen

  • [1988:] Pinpoints the insecurities I still feel as a lone touring folksinger, even after all these years. (Notes Iain MacKintosh, 'Gentle Persuasion')

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aktualisiert am 03.05.2002