Run Baby Run
She was born in November 1963
The day that Aldous Huxley died
And her mama believed
That every man could be free
So her mama got high, high, high
And her daddy marched on Birmingham
Singing mighty protest songs
And he pictured all the places
Where he knew that she'd belong
But he failed and taught her young
The only thing she'd need to carry on
He taught her how to
Run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
Past the arms of the familiar
And their talk of better days
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
so long
Baby loves to run
She counts out all her money
In the taxi on the way to meet her plane
Stares hopeful out the window
At the workers fighting
Through the pouring rain
She's searching through the stations
For an unfamiliar song
And she's pictures all the places
Where she knows she still belongs
And she smiles the secret smile
Because she knows exactly how
To carry on
So run baby run baby run baby run
Baby run
From the old familiar faces and
Their old familiar ways
To the comfort of the strangers
Slipping out before they say
So long
Baby loves to run
--
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
R.E.M.
--
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◆ From: ccsun65.cc.ntu.edu.tw