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The Ballads Of Madison County文本歌词 He was a cowboy,the last one it seems A rider of sundowns and old,faded dreams The last of the cowboys,a child of the rains A rider of first light and old west-bound trains            And Francesca remembers,though the years going by Four days with the cowboy and the late summer sky When Kincaid was rolling through the green summer land Into Madison County where the old bridges stand            She was a dancer with dreams of her own And he was a dreamer who danced all alone They might have been wood smoke They might have been wind Or they might have been magic That wont come again            We need a lot more slow dancinto old radio songs More brandy and candles as the nights move along            We need a lot more old cowboys,out there on their own And a woman to remember them When theyre scattered and blown            She was a dancer with dreams of her own And he was a dreamer who danced all alone They might have been wood smoke They might have been wind Or they might have been magic That wont come again            So you might hear their song Across the green rollinland out in Madison County Where the old bridges stand
The Ballads Of Madison CountyLrc歌词 He was a cowboy,the last one it seems A rider of sundowns and old,faded dreams The last of the cowboys,a child of the rains A rider of first light and old west-bound trains            And Francesca remembers,though the years going by Four days with the cowboy and the late summer sky When Kincaid was rolling through the green summer land Into Madison County where the old bridges stand            She was a dancer with dreams of her own And he was a dreamer who danced all alone They might have been wood smoke They might have been wind Or they might have been magic That wont come again            We need a lot more slow dancinto old radio songs More brandy and candles as the nights move along            We need a lot more old cowboys,out there on their own And a woman to remember them When theyre scattered and blown            She was a dancer with dreams of her own And he was a dreamer who danced all alone They might have been wood smoke They might have been wind Or they might have been magic That wont come again            So you might hear their song Across the green rollinland out in Madison County Where the old bridges stand
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