Song | Time Table |
Artist | Genesis |
Album | Genesis 1970-1975 |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Banks, Collins, Gabriel ... | |
A carved oak table, tells a tale | |
Of times when kings and queens sipped wine from goblets gold | |
And the brave would lead their ladies from out of the room | |
To arbor's cool | |
A time of valor and legends born | |
A time when honor meant much more to a man than life | |
And the days knew only strife to tell right from wrong | |
Through lance and sword | |
Why, why can we never be sure till we die | |
Or have killed for an answer | |
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe | |
That no race has been grander | |
It seems because through time and space | |
Though names may change each face retains the mask it wore | |
A dusty table, musty smells | |
Tarnished silver lies discarded upon the floor | |
Only feeble light descends through a film of | |
GreyThat scars the panes | |
Gone the carving and those who left their mark | |
Gone the kings and queens now only the rats hold sway | |
And the weak must die according to nature's law | |
As old as they | |
Why, why can we never be sure till we die | |
Or have killed for an answer | |
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe | |
That no race has been grander | |
It seems because through time and space | |
Though names may change each face retains the mask it wore |
zuo ci : Banks, Collins, Gabriel ... | |
A carved oak table, tells a tale | |
Of times when kings and queens sipped wine from goblets gold | |
And the brave would lead their ladies from out of the room | |
To arbor' s cool | |
A time of valor and legends born | |
A time when honor meant much more to a man than life | |
And the days knew only strife to tell right from wrong | |
Through lance and sword | |
Why, why can we never be sure till we die | |
Or have killed for an answer | |
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe | |
That no race has been grander | |
It seems because through time and space | |
Though names may change each face retains the mask it wore | |
A dusty table, musty smells | |
Tarnished silver lies discarded upon the floor | |
Only feeble light descends through a film of | |
GreyThat scars the panes | |
Gone the carving and those who left their mark | |
Gone the kings and queens now only the rats hold sway | |
And the weak must die according to nature' s law | |
As old as they | |
Why, why can we never be sure till we die | |
Or have killed for an answer | |
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe | |
That no race has been grander | |
It seems because through time and space | |
Though names may change each face retains the mask it wore |
zuò cí : Banks, Collins, Gabriel ... | |
A carved oak table, tells a tale | |
Of times when kings and queens sipped wine from goblets gold | |
And the brave would lead their ladies from out of the room | |
To arbor' s cool | |
A time of valor and legends born | |
A time when honor meant much more to a man than life | |
And the days knew only strife to tell right from wrong | |
Through lance and sword | |
Why, why can we never be sure till we die | |
Or have killed for an answer | |
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe | |
That no race has been grander | |
It seems because through time and space | |
Though names may change each face retains the mask it wore | |
A dusty table, musty smells | |
Tarnished silver lies discarded upon the floor | |
Only feeble light descends through a film of | |
GreyThat scars the panes | |
Gone the carving and those who left their mark | |
Gone the kings and queens now only the rats hold sway | |
And the weak must die according to nature' s law | |
As old as they | |
Why, why can we never be sure till we die | |
Or have killed for an answer | |
Why, why do we suffer each race to believe | |
That no race has been grander | |
It seems because through time and space | |
Though names may change each face retains the mask it wore |