Song | Polishing Silver |
Artist | Sopor Æternus & the Ensemble of Shadows |
Album | A Strange Thing To Say |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Anna-Varney Cantodea | |
作词 : Anna-Varney Cantodea | |
I could be like a snowflake | |
fallen all the way from heaven into a magpie's nest, | |
only to place my powdered cheek gently upon his hairy chest. | |
I could be his Maiden Marianne gift-wrapped in cloak and silken hood, | |
oh, a robin-redbreast sitting high up in the tree-tops ...- | |
of his mo(u)rning wood. | |
I need, I need a silver-furred | |
a sugar sugar-daddy-bear, | |
someone who loves the front of me, | |
who likes to pay and loves to care. | |
A frizzly ursus, strong but cute, | |
adorable in leather, denim or tweed-suit. | |
I'd polish silver, 'cause I long to be spooned | |
on the dark, dark side of the palest moon ... | |
Mandrake grows beneath the gallows | |
in the shape of the one thing | |
that you should never swallow. | |
I know, he may look like the cutest thing you've ever seen | |
but, Honey, we just don't know | |
where this old thing of his had been ... | |
I almost had a secret love affair | |
with a dead boy's underwear. | |
I nicked it from the mortuary, | |
but the damn thing was far too small for me. | |
That's why each time I hear the postman ring, | |
I can't help wondering what he might bring. | |
Oh, will he have something for me, | |
and, if so, I wonder ... how large will his package be? | |
The chimney-sweep, the chimney-sweep, | |
he came at two o'clock, | |
I showed him where the furnace was, | |
and he showed me his cock. | |
He wore a bomber-jacket, black, but his hair-cut was crap, | |
it took him rather long to finish his annual check ... | |
A sylvan stronghold for the golden child, | |
built and looked after by heart beguiled. | |
A guard, a servant and a loyal king, | |
a winter-garden and a thermal-spring |
zuo qu : AnnaVarney Cantodea | |
zuo ci : AnnaVarney Cantodea | |
I could be like a snowflake | |
fallen all the way from heaven into a magpie' s nest, | |
only to place my powdered cheek gently upon his hairy chest. | |
I could be his Maiden Marianne giftwrapped in cloak and silken hood, | |
oh, a robinredbreast sitting high up in the treetops ... | |
of his mo u rning wood. | |
I need, I need a silverfurred | |
a sugar sugardaddybear, | |
someone who loves the front of me, | |
who likes to pay and loves to care. | |
A frizzly ursus, strong but cute, | |
adorable in leather, denim or tweedsuit. | |
I' d polish silver, ' cause I long to be spooned | |
on the dark, dark side of the palest moon ... | |
Mandrake grows beneath the gallows | |
in the shape of the one thing | |
that you should never swallow. | |
I know, he may look like the cutest thing you' ve ever seen | |
but, Honey, we just don' t know | |
where this old thing of his had been ... | |
I almost had a secret love affair | |
with a dead boy' s underwear. | |
I nicked it from the mortuary, | |
but the damn thing was far too small for me. | |
That' s why each time I hear the postman ring, | |
I can' t help wondering what he might bring. | |
Oh, will he have something for me, | |
and, if so, I wonder ... how large will his package be? | |
The chimneysweep, the chimneysweep, | |
he came at two o' clock, | |
I showed him where the furnace was, | |
and he showed me his cock. | |
He wore a bomberjacket, black, but his haircut was crap, | |
it took him rather long to finish his annual check ... | |
A sylvan stronghold for the golden child, | |
built and looked after by heart beguiled. | |
A guard, a servant and a loyal king, | |
a wintergarden and a thermalspring |
zuò qǔ : AnnaVarney Cantodea | |
zuò cí : AnnaVarney Cantodea | |
I could be like a snowflake | |
fallen all the way from heaven into a magpie' s nest, | |
only to place my powdered cheek gently upon his hairy chest. | |
I could be his Maiden Marianne giftwrapped in cloak and silken hood, | |
oh, a robinredbreast sitting high up in the treetops ... | |
of his mo u rning wood. | |
I need, I need a silverfurred | |
a sugar sugardaddybear, | |
someone who loves the front of me, | |
who likes to pay and loves to care. | |
A frizzly ursus, strong but cute, | |
adorable in leather, denim or tweedsuit. | |
I' d polish silver, ' cause I long to be spooned | |
on the dark, dark side of the palest moon ... | |
Mandrake grows beneath the gallows | |
in the shape of the one thing | |
that you should never swallow. | |
I know, he may look like the cutest thing you' ve ever seen | |
but, Honey, we just don' t know | |
where this old thing of his had been ... | |
I almost had a secret love affair | |
with a dead boy' s underwear. | |
I nicked it from the mortuary, | |
but the damn thing was far too small for me. | |
That' s why each time I hear the postman ring, | |
I can' t help wondering what he might bring. | |
Oh, will he have something for me, | |
and, if so, I wonder ... how large will his package be? | |
The chimneysweep, the chimneysweep, | |
he came at two o' clock, | |
I showed him where the furnace was, | |
and he showed me his cock. | |
He wore a bomberjacket, black, but his haircut was crap, | |
it took him rather long to finish his annual check ... | |
A sylvan stronghold for the golden child, | |
built and looked after by heart beguiled. | |
A guard, a servant and a loyal king, | |
a wintergarden and a thermalspring |