Song | Dandelions in Bullet Holes |
Artist | Sarah Harmer |
Album | All of Our Names |
作曲 : Harmer | |
Kaleidoscope, | |
Wheel of hope. | |
Place to start out from, | |
Although it started long ago, | |
The world's work has begun. | |
A hula hoop, | |
A human chain. | |
To warm our hands, | |
And find our way, | |
When all the lights go out. | |
A raincoat and a French beret. | |
The rolling hills of past mistakes, | |
Like quiet under cloud. | |
And I will long look to the churning sea, | |
This call to arms means wrap them, | |
Around the first person you see. | |
Dandelions in bullet holes, | |
We stand in our civilian clothes, | |
On blankets laid out on a lawn, | |
Clouds of rain will all move on. | |
And when the mist clears we will see, | |
Both of our names on a marquee, | |
Across the ocean the same day, | |
And then washed ashore a block away. | |
The windmill is waiting for the same thing, | |
As the slackened sail, | |
At the core within something like the wind, | |
Is blowing at the veil. | |
And I will long go on this inner sight, | |
This call to arms means hold to it, | |
And hold tight. | |
Dandelions in bullet holes, | |
We stand in our civilian clothes, | |
On blankets laid out on a lawn, | |
Clouds of rain will all move on. | |
And when the mist clears we will see, | |
Both of our names on a marquee, | |
Across the ocean the same day, | |
And then washed ashore a block away. | |
Ah come on, these streams of light are not so subtle, | |
All along the ditch signs of life in sinking puddles. | |
Dandelions in bullet holes, | |
We stand in our civilian clothes, | |
On blankets laid out on a lawn, | |
Clouds of rain will all move on. | |
And when the mist clears we will see, | |
All of our names on a marquee, | |
Across the ocean the same day, | |
And then washed ashore a block away. |
zuò qǔ : Harmer | |
Kaleidoscope, | |
Wheel of hope. | |
Place to start out from, | |
Although it started long ago, | |
The world' s work has begun. | |
A hula hoop, | |
A human chain. | |
To warm our hands, | |
And find our way, | |
When all the lights go out. | |
A raincoat and a French beret. | |
The rolling hills of past mistakes, | |
Like quiet under cloud. | |
And I will long look to the churning sea, | |
This call to arms means wrap them, | |
Around the first person you see. | |
Dandelions in bullet holes, | |
We stand in our civilian clothes, | |
On blankets laid out on a lawn, | |
Clouds of rain will all move on. | |
And when the mist clears we will see, | |
Both of our names on a marquee, | |
Across the ocean the same day, | |
And then washed ashore a block away. | |
The windmill is waiting for the same thing, | |
As the slackened sail, | |
At the core within something like the wind, | |
Is blowing at the veil. | |
And I will long go on this inner sight, | |
This call to arms means hold to it, | |
And hold tight. | |
Dandelions in bullet holes, | |
We stand in our civilian clothes, | |
On blankets laid out on a lawn, | |
Clouds of rain will all move on. | |
And when the mist clears we will see, | |
Both of our names on a marquee, | |
Across the ocean the same day, | |
And then washed ashore a block away. | |
Ah come on, these streams of light are not so subtle, | |
All along the ditch signs of life in sinking puddles. | |
Dandelions in bullet holes, | |
We stand in our civilian clothes, | |
On blankets laid out on a lawn, | |
Clouds of rain will all move on. | |
And when the mist clears we will see, | |
All of our names on a marquee, | |
Across the ocean the same day, | |
And then washed ashore a block away. |