Альбом Carole King

Like some nightbird homeward winging
He seeks that shelteredness
Like the sailor's lost horizon
He needs some place to rest
The songs that he's been singing
No longer make much sense
And those strangers' cold perceptions
They've killed his confidence

Nightingale
She sails away upon a sea of song
Nightingale
She serenades his lonely, lonely life along
When his tired voice is broken
His golden hope is gone
She makes a loss so simple-longing somehow not so wrong
Nightingale

He was strong but he was taken
By the thought of his success
Those spotlight shadows how they lured him
And took him like all the rest
But that old dream don't look good now
No it don't seem quite the same
He needs to hear a tender word
Won't you sing him home again

Nightingale
She sails away upon a sea of songs
Nightingale
She serenades his lonely, lonely life along
When his strength is slowly going
His pride is all but gone
She makes a foolish dreamer listen
To one last song
Nightingale
Sing sweet nightingale

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Lift me, won't you lift me above the old routine;
Make it nice, play it clean jazzman.

When the jazzman's testifyin' a faithless man believes
he can sing you into paradise or bring you to your knees.
It's a gospel kind of feelin', a touch of Georgia slide,
a song of pure revival and a style that's sanctified.

Jazzman take my blues away; make my pain
the same as yours with every change you play.
Jazzman, oh jazzman.

When the jazzman's signifyin', and the band is windin' low.
It's the late night side of morning in the darkness of his soul.
He can fill a room with sadness as he fills his horn with tears.
He can cry like a fallen angel when risin' time is near.

Jazzman take my blues away; make my pain
the same as yours with every change you play.
Oh lift me, won't you lift me with ev'ry turn around.
Play it sweetly, take me down, oh jazzman.

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