Bryan Ferry - Stockholm, Sweden 2000

1) Falling In Love Again

(intro)

Falling in love again,
Never wanted to,
What am I to do?
Can’t help it.

Love’s always been my game,
Play it how I may,
I was made that way,
Can’t help it.

Girls cluster to me,
Like moths around the flame,
And if their wings burn,
I know I’m not to blame…

Falling in love again,
Never wanted to,
What am I to do?
Can’t help it.

(instrumental)

Girls cluster to me,
Like moths around the flame,
And if their wings burn,
I know I’m not to blame…

Falling in love again,
Never wanted to,
What am I to do?
Can’t help it.

2) A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall

(intro)

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Where have you been, my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains,
Walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways,
Stepped in the middle of seven sad forests,
Been out in front of a dozen dead oceans,
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard,
It’s a hard, and it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, and it’s a hard,
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
What did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’,
Heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world,
Heard one one-hundred drummers whose hands are a-blazin’,
Heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’,
Heard one person starve, many people laughin’,
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter,
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley,
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, hard, ha’, hard,
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

(intro rpt)

And what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
What’ll you do now, my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’,
Walk through the depths of the deepest dark forest,
Where the people are many and their hands are all empty,
Where pellets of poison are flooding their waters,
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison,
Where executioner’s face is always well hidden,
Where hunger is ugly, where the souls are forgotten,
Where black is the colour, and the none is the number,
And I’ll tell it and think it and speak it and breathe it,
Reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it,
Then I’ll stand in the ocean until I start sinkin’,
But I’ll know my song well before I start singin’,
And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, and it’s a ha-ha’, ha-ha’, ha-ha’, hard,
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, and it’s a so hard, oh so hard,
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.