Looking Glass - 70s
| x2 |
| There's a port, on a western bay, |
| And it serves, a hundred ships a day, |
| Lonely sailors, pass the time away, |
| And talk about their homes... |
| And there's a girl, in this harbor town, |
| And she works, layin' whiskey down, |
| They say "Brandy, fetch another round", |
| She serves them whiskey and wine... |
|
| Brandy, wears a braided chain, |
| Made of finest silver from the north of Spain, |
| A locket, that bears the name, |
| Of the man that Brandy loved... |
| Well, He came, on a summer's day, |
| Bringing gifts, from far away, |
| But he made it clear, he couldn't stay, |
| No harbor was his home... |
|
| Yeah, Brandy used to watch his eyes, |
| When he told his sailor's stories, |
| She could feel the ocean fall and rise, |
| She saw its raging glory, |
| But he had always told the truth, |
| Lord, he was an honest man, |
| And Brandy does her best to understand. |
| At night, when the bars close down, |
| Brandy walks through a silent town, |
| And loves a man, who's not around, |
| She still can hear him say |
soft, slow, minimal
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