Jane Austen's Door Lyrics
| Song | Jane Austen's Door |
| Artist | Steve Hackett |
| Album | Darktown |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Hackett | |
| Has Jean Paul Sartre deserted you | |
| Do you still listen to the blues | |
| Is there a needle beside your hand | |
| A poisoned chalice or the promised land | |
| Some doors open some doors close | |
| Do opposites still seem close | |
| Did Ruby Tuesday get to you | |
| Or the caretaker whose film we used | |
| A purple rose that was ignored | |
| The child behind Jane Austen's door | |
| Oh has your life seemed unkind | |
| With all those friends you left behind | |
| We burned our bridges fast those days | |
| Don't think about them it doesn't pay | |
| My drunken guitar Sloane Square tube | |
| Falling backwards me and you | |
| Tumbling over to the floor | |
| You cried inside Jane Austen's door | |
| So long |
| zuo ci : Hackett | |
| Has Jean Paul Sartre deserted you | |
| Do you still listen to the blues | |
| Is there a needle beside your hand | |
| A poisoned chalice or the promised land | |
| Some doors open some doors close | |
| Do opposites still seem close | |
| Did Ruby Tuesday get to you | |
| Or the caretaker whose film we used | |
| A purple rose that was ignored | |
| The child behind Jane Austen' s door | |
| Oh has your life seemed unkind | |
| With all those friends you left behind | |
| We burned our bridges fast those days | |
| Don' t think about them it doesn' t pay | |
| My drunken guitar Sloane Square tube | |
| Falling backwards me and you | |
| Tumbling over to the floor | |
| You cried inside Jane Austen' s door | |
| So long |
| zuò cí : Hackett | |
| Has Jean Paul Sartre deserted you | |
| Do you still listen to the blues | |
| Is there a needle beside your hand | |
| A poisoned chalice or the promised land | |
| Some doors open some doors close | |
| Do opposites still seem close | |
| Did Ruby Tuesday get to you | |
| Or the caretaker whose film we used | |
| A purple rose that was ignored | |
| The child behind Jane Austen' s door | |
| Oh has your life seemed unkind | |
| With all those friends you left behind | |
| We burned our bridges fast those days | |
| Don' t think about them it doesn' t pay | |
| My drunken guitar Sloane Square tube | |
| Falling backwards me and you | |
| Tumbling over to the floor | |
| You cried inside Jane Austen' s door | |
| So long |
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