JOAN BAEZ & JACKSON BROWNE

Jackson Browne

Song for Adam

Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him well
He was alone into his distance, he was deep into his well
I could guess what he was laughing at, but I couldn’t really tell
Now the stories told that Adam jumped, but I’m thinking that he fell

Together we went traveling, as we received the call
His destination India, and I had none at all
Oh, I still remember laughing with our backs against the wall
So free of fear, we never thought that one of us might fall

I sit before my only candle, but it’s so little light to find my way
Now the story unfolds before my candle
Which is shorter ev’ry hour, as it reaches for the day
But I feel just like a candle, in a way
I guess I’ll get there, but I wouldn’t say for sure

When we parted we were laughing still, as our good-byes were said
And I never heard from him again, as each our lives we lead
Except for once in someone else’s letter that I read
Until I heard the sudden word that a friend of mine was dead

I sit before my only candle, like a pilgrim sits beside the wave
Now this journey appears before my candle
As a song that’s growing fainter, the harder I play
That I fear before I end will fade away
I guess I’ll get there, but I wouldn’t say for sure

Though Adam was a friend of mine, I did not know him long
And when I stood myself beside him, I never thought I was as strong
Still it seems he stopped his singing in the middle of his song
Well I’m not the one to say I know, but I’m hoping he was wrong

I’m holding out my only candle, but it’s so little light to find my way
Now the story’s been laid beneath my candle
And it’s shorter ev’ry hour, as it reaches for the day
Yes, I feel just like a candle in a way
I hope I get there, but I’d never pray

JOAN BAEZ

500 MILES

If you miss the train I'm on, you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles,
a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles,
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four,
Lord I'm 500 miles from my home
500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles
Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home

Not a shirt on my back, not a penny to my name
Lord I can't go a-home this a-way
This a-away, this a-way, this a-way, this a-way,
Lord I can't go a-home this a-way

If you miss the train I'm on you will know that I am gone
You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles

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Joan Baez -Fountain of Sorrow- Jackson Browne