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| Baez Joan Blessed Are... The 33rd Of August Today, thereīs no salvation, the bandīs packed up and gone Left me standing with my penny in my hand thereīs a big crowd at the station where the blind man sings his song But he can see what they canīt understand. (CHORUS) Itīs the thirty-third of August and Iīm finīlly touching down Eight days from Sunday finds me Saturday bound. Once I stumbled through the darkness, tumbled to my knees A thousand voices screaminī in my brain Woke up in a squad car, busted down for vagrancy Outside my cell as sure as hell, it looked like rain. But now Iīve got my dangerous feelings under lock and chain Guess I killed my violent nature with a smile Though the demons danced and sang their song within my fevered brain Not all my God-like thoughts, Lord, were defiled. Mickey Newbury Copyright 1969 by Acuff-Rose Publications, Inc. BMI 3:42 |
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