Song | Etcetera Whatever |
Artist | Over the Rhine |
Album | Good Dog Bad Dog: The Home Recordings |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Detweiler | |
Don't speak. | |
Words come out your eyes. | |
You're wet with this nightmare. | |
Like thorns you hold these secrets to your breast, | |
Your slender fingers closing into fists. | |
The wind blows through the trees, | |
Trace your bruise | |
Like a guilty streak. | |
Hold the pain. | |
You're a connoisseur. | |
You think you have no other gift to give, | |
But we have so much left to live. | |
No hand writing on the wall: | |
We don't need a lot of money. | |
We'll be sleeping on the beach, | |
Keeping oceans within reach. | |
(Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free.) | |
I will stumble there with you | |
And you'll be laughing close with me, | |
Trying not to make a scene | |
Etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean | |
Inside, outside, feel new skin. | |
Is we're gonna be alright. | |
Yeah, we're gonna be alright. | |
You can close your eyes tonight, | |
Cause we're gonna be alright. | |
It's not as if it's a matter of will. | |
So come on now, | |
I can almost see | |
That place | |
On a distant shore. | |
And courage is a weapon we must use | |
To find some life you can't refuse. | |
Like tomorrow's martyr. | |
We don't need a lot of money. | |
We'll be sleeping on the beach, | |
Keeping oceans within reach. | |
(Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free.) | |
I will stumble there with you | |
And you'll be laughing close with me, | |
Trying not to make a scene | |
Etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean | |
Taste the words on the tip of my tongue. | |
Is we're gonna be alright. | |
Yeah, we're gonna be alright. | |
You can close your eyes tonight, | |
Cause we're gonna be alright. | |
All that I can see is your eyes. | |
Close your eyes. | |
Close your eyes. | |
All I need is everything. | |
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again. | |
All I need is all I need. |
zuo ci : Detweiler | |
Don' t speak. | |
Words come out your eyes. | |
You' re wet with this nightmare. | |
Like thorns you hold these secrets to your breast, | |
Your slender fingers closing into fists. | |
The wind blows through the trees, | |
Trace your bruise | |
Like a guilty streak. | |
Hold the pain. | |
You' re a connoisseur. | |
You think you have no other gift to give, | |
But we have so much left to live. | |
No hand writing on the wall: | |
We don' t need a lot of money. | |
We' ll be sleeping on the beach, | |
Keeping oceans within reach. | |
Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free. | |
I will stumble there with you | |
And you' ll be laughing close with me, | |
Trying not to make a scene | |
Etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean | |
Inside, outside, feel new skin. | |
Is we' re gonna be alright. | |
Yeah, we' re gonna be alright. | |
You can close your eyes tonight, | |
Cause we' re gonna be alright. | |
It' s not as if it' s a matter of will. | |
So come on now, | |
I can almost see | |
That place | |
On a distant shore. | |
And courage is a weapon we must use | |
To find some life you can' t refuse. | |
Like tomorrow' s martyr. | |
We don' t need a lot of money. | |
We' ll be sleeping on the beach, | |
Keeping oceans within reach. | |
Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free. | |
I will stumble there with you | |
And you' ll be laughing close with me, | |
Trying not to make a scene | |
Etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean | |
Taste the words on the tip of my tongue. | |
Is we' re gonna be alright. | |
Yeah, we' re gonna be alright. | |
You can close your eyes tonight, | |
Cause we' re gonna be alright. | |
All that I can see is your eyes. | |
Close your eyes. | |
Close your eyes. | |
All I need is everything. | |
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again. | |
All I need is all I need. |
zuò cí : Detweiler | |
Don' t speak. | |
Words come out your eyes. | |
You' re wet with this nightmare. | |
Like thorns you hold these secrets to your breast, | |
Your slender fingers closing into fists. | |
The wind blows through the trees, | |
Trace your bruise | |
Like a guilty streak. | |
Hold the pain. | |
You' re a connoisseur. | |
You think you have no other gift to give, | |
But we have so much left to live. | |
No hand writing on the wall: | |
We don' t need a lot of money. | |
We' ll be sleeping on the beach, | |
Keeping oceans within reach. | |
Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free. | |
I will stumble there with you | |
And you' ll be laughing close with me, | |
Trying not to make a scene | |
Etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean | |
Inside, outside, feel new skin. | |
Is we' re gonna be alright. | |
Yeah, we' re gonna be alright. | |
You can close your eyes tonight, | |
Cause we' re gonna be alright. | |
It' s not as if it' s a matter of will. | |
So come on now, | |
I can almost see | |
That place | |
On a distant shore. | |
And courage is a weapon we must use | |
To find some life you can' t refuse. | |
Like tomorrow' s martyr. | |
We don' t need a lot of money. | |
We' ll be sleeping on the beach, | |
Keeping oceans within reach. | |
Whatever private oceans we can conjure up for free. | |
I will stumble there with you | |
And you' ll be laughing close with me, | |
Trying not to make a scene | |
Etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean | |
Taste the words on the tip of my tongue. | |
Is we' re gonna be alright. | |
Yeah, we' re gonna be alright. | |
You can close your eyes tonight, | |
Cause we' re gonna be alright. | |
All that I can see is your eyes. | |
Close your eyes. | |
Close your eyes. | |
All I need is everything. | |
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again. | |
All I need is all I need. |