Song | Brompton Oratory |
Artist | Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds |
Album | The Boatman's Call |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Cave | |
Up those stone steps I climb | |
Hail this joyful day's return | |
Into its great shadowed vault I go | |
Hail the Pentecostal morn | |
The reading is from Luke 24 | |
Where Christ returns to his loved ones | |
I look at the stone apostles | |
Think that it's alright for some | |
And I wish that I was made of stone | |
So that I would not have to see | |
A beauty impossible to define | |
A beauty impossible to believe | |
A beauty impossible to endure | |
The blood imparted in little sips | |
The smell of you still on my hands | |
As I bring the cup up to my lips | |
No God up in the sky | |
No devil beneath the sea | |
Could do the job that you did, baby | |
Of bringing me to my knees | |
Outside I sit on the stone steps | |
With nothing much to do | |
Forlorn and exhausted, baby | |
By the absence of you |
zuo ci : Cave | |
Up those stone steps I climb | |
Hail this joyful day' s return | |
Into its great shadowed vault I go | |
Hail the Pentecostal morn | |
The reading is from Luke 24 | |
Where Christ returns to his loved ones | |
I look at the stone apostles | |
Think that it' s alright for some | |
And I wish that I was made of stone | |
So that I would not have to see | |
A beauty impossible to define | |
A beauty impossible to believe | |
A beauty impossible to endure | |
The blood imparted in little sips | |
The smell of you still on my hands | |
As I bring the cup up to my lips | |
No God up in the sky | |
No devil beneath the sea | |
Could do the job that you did, baby | |
Of bringing me to my knees | |
Outside I sit on the stone steps | |
With nothing much to do | |
Forlorn and exhausted, baby | |
By the absence of you |
zuò cí : Cave | |
Up those stone steps I climb | |
Hail this joyful day' s return | |
Into its great shadowed vault I go | |
Hail the Pentecostal morn | |
The reading is from Luke 24 | |
Where Christ returns to his loved ones | |
I look at the stone apostles | |
Think that it' s alright for some | |
And I wish that I was made of stone | |
So that I would not have to see | |
A beauty impossible to define | |
A beauty impossible to believe | |
A beauty impossible to endure | |
The blood imparted in little sips | |
The smell of you still on my hands | |
As I bring the cup up to my lips | |
No God up in the sky | |
No devil beneath the sea | |
Could do the job that you did, baby | |
Of bringing me to my knees | |
Outside I sit on the stone steps | |
With nothing much to do | |
Forlorn and exhausted, baby | |
By the absence of you |