Of Acorns That Gather Lyrics

	作曲 : Enchantment, Jones
	In graceful dance of ever, as fountains have towered above me
	The days of celebration and that of the foul lake
	Fathers of the knell... ...burn up the sun
	And pluck me from my ripeness
	As passion dies
	As love itself has failed
	And unto the earth we thrive
	Of acorns that gather and cradle to kindest of ears
	Even they are judged to a wintertide... ...judged by sorrow days
	Through windows of sunken eyes
	As time leads our summer's on
	Nothing but idle tales... ...and flowers yet to be fair
	Make the berries glutton with awe
	Borrowed tears like a troubled ocean, thorns
	Of earth's delight
	Gathered like spreading fields for a fallow year
	Deflower for love is a fever... ...and
	I swear from time... ...
	I even pity beauty itself

	zuo qu : Enchantment, Jones
	In graceful dance of ever, as fountains have towered above me
	The days of celebration and that of the foul lake
	Fathers of the knell... ... burn up the sun
	And pluck me from my ripeness
	As passion dies
	As love itself has failed
	And unto the earth we thrive
	Of acorns that gather and cradle to kindest of ears
	Even they are judged to a wintertide... ... judged by sorrow days
	Through windows of sunken eyes
	As time leads our summer' s on
	Nothing but idle tales... ... and flowers yet to be fair
	Make the berries glutton with awe
	Borrowed tears like a troubled ocean, thorns
	Of earth' s delight
	Gathered like spreading fields for a fallow year
	Deflower for love is a fever... ... and
	I swear from time... ...
	I even pity beauty itself

	zuò qǔ : Enchantment, Jones
	In graceful dance of ever, as fountains have towered above me
	The days of celebration and that of the foul lake
	Fathers of the knell... ... burn up the sun
	And pluck me from my ripeness
	As passion dies
	As love itself has failed
	And unto the earth we thrive
	Of acorns that gather and cradle to kindest of ears
	Even they are judged to a wintertide... ... judged by sorrow days
	Through windows of sunken eyes
	As time leads our summer' s on
	Nothing but idle tales... ... and flowers yet to be fair
	Make the berries glutton with awe
	Borrowed tears like a troubled ocean, thorns
	Of earth' s delight
	Gathered like spreading fields for a fallow year
	Deflower for love is a fever... ... and
	I swear from time... ...
	I even pity beauty itself

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