Song | Babies Falling |
Artist | The Magnetic Fields |
Album | The Wayward Bus |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Burrill, Gregiropoulos ... | |
Where the workers stand in querulous rows awaiting dislocation | |
I will be there too | |
When you're cashing in your food stamps | |
When you're sleeping in a cattle train | |
I'll be with you | |
Pushing up against the ticket counter window face against the glass | |
Bleeding from the waist and kissing to be chaste | |
It is said that those who will not rest have been cursed | |
To tramp like soldiers through the marshes | |
Or that blessed are the ones who leave the stage | |
Like babies falling fast asleep | |
So I twice am cursed and twice am stuck | |
Affixed to this corner of the earth. | |
That old river keeps on rolling but the old man doesn't see it, | |
He just stands there with his eyes closed | |
Asking "where'd you go?" "where'd you go?" | |
So wherever you may sleep tonight, | |
Be it bed or bedrock, home, or open field: | |
When you begin to yield, then, whatever you have taken as your pillow, | |
May it serve as mine as well. | |
Underneath the weeping willow | |
I will wait for you forever, | |
My eyes forever closed, asking "where'd you go?" "where'd you go?" |
zuo ci : Burrill, Gregiropoulos ... | |
Where the workers stand in querulous rows awaiting dislocation | |
I will be there too | |
When you' re cashing in your food stamps | |
When you' re sleeping in a cattle train | |
I' ll be with you | |
Pushing up against the ticket counter window face against the glass | |
Bleeding from the waist and kissing to be chaste | |
It is said that those who will not rest have been cursed | |
To tramp like soldiers through the marshes | |
Or that blessed are the ones who leave the stage | |
Like babies falling fast asleep | |
So I twice am cursed and twice am stuck | |
Affixed to this corner of the earth. | |
That old river keeps on rolling but the old man doesn' t see it, | |
He just stands there with his eyes closed | |
Asking " where' d you go?" " where' d you go?" | |
So wherever you may sleep tonight, | |
Be it bed or bedrock, home, or open field: | |
When you begin to yield, then, whatever you have taken as your pillow, | |
May it serve as mine as well. | |
Underneath the weeping willow | |
I will wait for you forever, | |
My eyes forever closed, asking " where' d you go?" " where' d you go?" |
zuò cí : Burrill, Gregiropoulos ... | |
Where the workers stand in querulous rows awaiting dislocation | |
I will be there too | |
When you' re cashing in your food stamps | |
When you' re sleeping in a cattle train | |
I' ll be with you | |
Pushing up against the ticket counter window face against the glass | |
Bleeding from the waist and kissing to be chaste | |
It is said that those who will not rest have been cursed | |
To tramp like soldiers through the marshes | |
Or that blessed are the ones who leave the stage | |
Like babies falling fast asleep | |
So I twice am cursed and twice am stuck | |
Affixed to this corner of the earth. | |
That old river keeps on rolling but the old man doesn' t see it, | |
He just stands there with his eyes closed | |
Asking " where' d you go?" " where' d you go?" | |
So wherever you may sleep tonight, | |
Be it bed or bedrock, home, or open field: | |
When you begin to yield, then, whatever you have taken as your pillow, | |
May it serve as mine as well. | |
Underneath the weeping willow | |
I will wait for you forever, | |
My eyes forever closed, asking " where' d you go?" " where' d you go?" |