Song | Old Old Song |
Artist | Ani DiFranco |
Album | Revelling/Reckoning |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : DiFranco | |
I'll sing you a song that starts out descriptive | |
And locates a time and a place | |
Like a dinner table where a whole family | |
Is just sitting down to say grace | |
An old old song that moves into action | |
Taking its sweet sweet time | |
And waits until we all say amen | |
Again and again in rhyme | |
It's the story of a father and a mother | |
Who battle each other over nothin' | |
With a couple of kids trying to figure | |
Which way the plot's spinning | |
Who's winning and who is bluffing | |
It's a story as common as a penny, son | |
It ain't really worth anything to anyone | |
Poor little sore little song | |
That aches like a muscle each time that it moves | |
Sad little song that you play | |
And you play and you play | |
And you play 'til you lose | |
While history is outside writing a recipe book | |
For every earthly pain | |
This song is inside finger painting dark swirls | |
Again and again and they all look the same | |
Cuz what if you come home from school one day | |
And you find your whole family's at war | |
And there's this ominous silence just waiting to be broken | |
And there's secret places for hiding underneath the floorboards | |
And everyone seems to be bracing | |
For the subharmonic thunder of the next bomb | |
And everyone seems to be waiting for the cops to bust in | |
With their guns drawn | |
At the bleak light of dawn | |
It's a story as common as a penny, son | |
I don't think it's worth anything to anyone |
zuo ci : DiFranco | |
I' ll sing you a song that starts out descriptive | |
And locates a time and a place | |
Like a dinner table where a whole family | |
Is just sitting down to say grace | |
An old old song that moves into action | |
Taking its sweet sweet time | |
And waits until we all say amen | |
Again and again in rhyme | |
It' s the story of a father and a mother | |
Who battle each other over nothin' | |
With a couple of kids trying to figure | |
Which way the plot' s spinning | |
Who' s winning and who is bluffing | |
It' s a story as common as a penny, son | |
It ain' t really worth anything to anyone | |
Poor little sore little song | |
That aches like a muscle each time that it moves | |
Sad little song that you play | |
And you play and you play | |
And you play ' til you lose | |
While history is outside writing a recipe book | |
For every earthly pain | |
This song is inside finger painting dark swirls | |
Again and again and they all look the same | |
Cuz what if you come home from school one day | |
And you find your whole family' s at war | |
And there' s this ominous silence just waiting to be broken | |
And there' s secret places for hiding underneath the floorboards | |
And everyone seems to be bracing | |
For the subharmonic thunder of the next bomb | |
And everyone seems to be waiting for the cops to bust in | |
With their guns drawn | |
At the bleak light of dawn | |
It' s a story as common as a penny, son | |
I don' t think it' s worth anything to anyone |
zuò cí : DiFranco | |
I' ll sing you a song that starts out descriptive | |
And locates a time and a place | |
Like a dinner table where a whole family | |
Is just sitting down to say grace | |
An old old song that moves into action | |
Taking its sweet sweet time | |
And waits until we all say amen | |
Again and again in rhyme | |
It' s the story of a father and a mother | |
Who battle each other over nothin' | |
With a couple of kids trying to figure | |
Which way the plot' s spinning | |
Who' s winning and who is bluffing | |
It' s a story as common as a penny, son | |
It ain' t really worth anything to anyone | |
Poor little sore little song | |
That aches like a muscle each time that it moves | |
Sad little song that you play | |
And you play and you play | |
And you play ' til you lose | |
While history is outside writing a recipe book | |
For every earthly pain | |
This song is inside finger painting dark swirls | |
Again and again and they all look the same | |
Cuz what if you come home from school one day | |
And you find your whole family' s at war | |
And there' s this ominous silence just waiting to be broken | |
And there' s secret places for hiding underneath the floorboards | |
And everyone seems to be bracing | |
For the subharmonic thunder of the next bomb | |
And everyone seems to be waiting for the cops to bust in | |
With their guns drawn | |
At the bleak light of dawn | |
It' s a story as common as a penny, son | |
I don' t think it' s worth anything to anyone |