Song | Ended Up a Stranger |
Artist | The Walkabouts |
Album | Ended Up a Stranger |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Eckman | |
cacophonous and slippery | |
4:35 in the mornin' | |
and I'm drivin' | |
these streets | |
tryin' to capture every sound | |
my microphone | |
hangs out, the back seat window | |
and what I don't succeed | |
in capturin' | |
turns weightless and indifferent | |
Lord, I've become a stranger.... in my old haunts | |
blips and bleeps | |
and siren squalls | |
this town it just gets richer | |
and it's teeth get clenched | |
and I am just a statue | |
of a long lost fearless age | |
our maladies | |
our strategies | |
this microphone | |
my wanderin's aside | |
Lord, I've become a stranger.... in my old haunts | |
hello desire' | |
and what your spooky name | |
implies | |
in you, I found my silk | |
and swagger, | |
the calm before the prize | |
and though I, | |
once was warned | |
you'd be the grave in which I'd lie | |
with you, I was no stranger.... in my old haunts | |
someday I'll hit the turnpike | |
speed past a truck stop | |
burnin' | |
it'll streak my rearview mirror | |
it'll fade, a lonely flicker | |
and I'll listen to these tapes I've made | |
my symphony of phantoms | |
Lord, I've ended up a stranger, in my old haunts | |
I've become a stranger.... in my old haunts |
zuo ci : Eckman | |
cacophonous and slippery | |
4: 35 in the mornin' | |
and I' m drivin' | |
these streets | |
tryin' to capture every sound | |
my microphone | |
hangs out, the back seat window | |
and what I don' t succeed | |
in capturin' | |
turns weightless and indifferent | |
Lord, I' ve become a stranger.... in my old haunts | |
blips and bleeps | |
and siren squalls | |
this town it just gets richer | |
and it' s teeth get clenched | |
and I am just a statue | |
of a long lost fearless age | |
our maladies | |
our strategies | |
this microphone | |
my wanderin' s aside | |
Lord, I' ve become a stranger.... in my old haunts | |
hello desire' | |
and what your spooky name | |
implies | |
in you, I found my silk | |
and swagger, | |
the calm before the prize | |
and though I, | |
once was warned | |
you' d be the grave in which I' d lie | |
with you, I was no stranger.... in my old haunts | |
someday I' ll hit the turnpike | |
speed past a truck stop | |
burnin' | |
it' ll streak my rearview mirror | |
it' ll fade, a lonely flicker | |
and I' ll listen to these tapes I' ve made | |
my symphony of phantoms | |
Lord, I' ve ended up a stranger, in my old haunts | |
I' ve become a stranger.... in my old haunts |
zuò cí : Eckman | |
cacophonous and slippery | |
4: 35 in the mornin' | |
and I' m drivin' | |
these streets | |
tryin' to capture every sound | |
my microphone | |
hangs out, the back seat window | |
and what I don' t succeed | |
in capturin' | |
turns weightless and indifferent | |
Lord, I' ve become a stranger.... in my old haunts | |
blips and bleeps | |
and siren squalls | |
this town it just gets richer | |
and it' s teeth get clenched | |
and I am just a statue | |
of a long lost fearless age | |
our maladies | |
our strategies | |
this microphone | |
my wanderin' s aside | |
Lord, I' ve become a stranger.... in my old haunts | |
hello desire' | |
and what your spooky name | |
implies | |
in you, I found my silk | |
and swagger, | |
the calm before the prize | |
and though I, | |
once was warned | |
you' d be the grave in which I' d lie | |
with you, I was no stranger.... in my old haunts | |
someday I' ll hit the turnpike | |
speed past a truck stop | |
burnin' | |
it' ll streak my rearview mirror | |
it' ll fade, a lonely flicker | |
and I' ll listen to these tapes I' ve made | |
my symphony of phantoms | |
Lord, I' ve ended up a stranger, in my old haunts | |
I' ve become a stranger.... in my old haunts |