Stephen Stills

Stephen Stills - Blind Fiddler Medley: The Blind Fiddler/Do songtekst

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Blind Fiddler Medley ("The Blind Fiddler," Trad.; "Do for the Others," Stephen Stills; "Know You Got to Run," Stephen Stills/John Hopkins)



I lost my eyes in a blacksmith shop

In the year of fifty six

Working on a t-flange

'Twas in need of fix

It bounded from the tongs

And there concealed my doom



I am a blind fiddler

Far frommy home



I have a wife and daughter

Depending on me

What good can I do them

My God I cannot see

I wander from one place to another

My daily bread to win



I am a blind fiddler

Looking for a friend



Round round up and down

All along the lonely town

See him sinkin' low

Doesn't see the love there is to know



And he cries

From the misery

And he lies

Singing harmony

She is gone

There is no tomorrow

It is done

So now he must borrow

The life of his brothers

And living in sorrow

He must do

For the others



A chill wind hits his face

Was that a tear

I thought I saw a trace

Loving people everywhere

Where is she

She is not there



And he cries

From the misery

And he lies

Singing harmony

She is gone

There is no tomorrow

It is done

So now he must borrow

The life of his brothers

And living in sorrow

He must do

For the others



Know you got to run

And you know you got to hide

Don't know who to follow

Who is on your side

Don't know where you're going

Won't talk of where you been

And I may see you tomorrow

Never more again



And you got yourself a potion

For to keep you from your sleep

In the dark and lonely hours

I've heard you laugh and weep

Talk about you're sinkin'

What a hole you're in

But you'll never face your lonely soul

Never face your friends



And you know you got to run

And you know you got to hide

Still there is a great light

Lingerin' deep within your eyes

Open up open up

C'mon and let me in

When you can love yourself honey I

I can love you then



I lost my eyes in a blacksmith shop

In seventeen fifty six

Working on a t-flange

'Twas in need of fix

It bounded from the tongs

And there concealed my doom

I am a blind fiddler

Far from my home



Round round up and down

All along the lonely town
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Taal: Engels

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