Escrita por Joan Baez, foi gravada em janeiro de 1975 e lançada no disco Diamonds and Rust, em april de 1975. Joan Baez cantou, tocou violão e sintetizadores. Larry Carlton tocou guitarra e violão. Dean Parks tocou guitarra e violão. Wilton Felder tocou baixo. Reinie Press tocou baixo. Jim Gordon tocou bateria. Larry Knechtel tocou piano. Joe Sample tocou piano elétrico e órgão Hammond. David Paich tocou piano e Harpsichord elétrico. Red Rhodes tocou pedal steel guitar. Malcolm Cecil tocou sintetizadores. Tom Scott tocou flauta e sax. Jim Horn tocou sax. Ollie Mitchell e Buck Monari tocaram trompete.
A letra:
The
lady's adrift in a foreign land
Singing on issues both humble and
grand
A
decade flew past her and there on the page
She read that the
prince had returned to the stage
Hovering
near treacherous waters
A friend saw her drifting and caught
her
Unguarded fantasies flying too far
Memories tumbling like
sweets from a jar
And take me down to the harbor now
Grapes
of the summer are low on the bough
Ghosts of my history will
follow me there
And the winds of the old days will blow through my
hair
Breath on an undying ember
It
doesn't take much to remember
Those eloquent songs from the good
old days
That set us to marching with banners ablaze
But
reporters, there's no sense in prying
Our blue-eyed son's been
denying
The truths that are wrapped in a mystery
The sixties
are over so set him free
And
take me down to the harbor now
Grapes of the summer are low on the
bough
Ghosts of my history will follow me there
And the winds
of the old days will blow through my hair
Why
do I sit the autumnal judge
Years of self-righteousness will not
budge
Singer or savior, it was his to choose
Which of us knows
what was his to lose
Because
idols are best when they're made of stone
A savior's a nuisance to
live with at home
Stars often fall, heroes go unsung
And
martyrs most certainly die too young
So
thank you for writing the best songs
Thank you for righting a few
wrongs
You're a savage gift on a wayward bus
But you stepped
down and you sang to us
And
get you down to the harbor now
Most of the sour grapes are gone
from the bough
Ghosts of Johanna will visit you there
And the
winds of the old days will blow through your hair
A versão de Joan Baez:
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