[00:00.000] 作词 : Lookman AdeSalami
[00:01.000] 作曲 : Lookman AdeSalami
[00:29.398] upon the autumn streets when the city is away
[00:33.348] on some lonesome quest for winter
[00:36.486] the man who sings his poems unravels his display
[00:41.541] and the neon spectrums turn to splinters
[00:46.248] and the nights are cold sometimes, but never for his pages
[00:50.754] they don't sway against this wilderof the stage
[00:55.474] and the ageless battle cries I unearthed from my eyes
[01:00.181] no longer writhe because the singing poet is wise
[01:04.448]
[01:06.174] they said that love of mine won't wither
[01:09.228] that time will bring a treasure trove of things
[01:13.089] and the shadows now are just a sliver
[01:17.539] but still it stings
[01:19.176] but it doesn't matter
[01:21.032] when the poet sings
[01:24.248]
[01:41.959] under the smoky chimes of roll up cigarettes and rhymes
[01:45.645] beneath the ponds of makeshift filters
[01:49.764] he told me that my sorries were really not worth their weight sometimes
[01:55.123] and it was best to let them wither
[01:59.301] and though I've sung and rung those bells of innocence undone
[02:04.072] with the side of the sun
[02:07.375] but within his song I sail amongst the sounds where sunlight fell
[02:13.390] when my experience begun
[02:16.148] and when I'm weather-worn the virtues of my mind have torn away
[02:23.092] and no such sounds won't stray
[02:26.755]
[02:27.286] and if I keep my sorries they'll not wither
[02:30.217] and time will bring a treasure trove of things
[02:34.262] and the shadows now are just a sliver
[02:38.548] but still it stings
[02:40.212] but it doesn't matter
[02:42.785] when the poet sings
[02:48.398]
[03:02.724] and when this drifting debutante Madonna's come of age
[03:06.397] and her days of youth are over
[03:10.534] she and I will both surmise that the poet's song will brush aside this man
[03:16.662] just as the infant's sorrows hold her
[03:19.940] and on the day that I am slayed and by the colors of my mind betrayed
[03:25.212] on the silence of the stage
[03:28.200] the poet's song will set apart and turn to flames my weary rungs
[03:33.975] and set my phenomenons ablaze
[03:38.328]
[03:39.384] he said my charming death would wither
[03:41.986] and time would bring a treasure trove of things
[03:46.798] and the shadows now are just a sliver
[03:50.499] but still it stings
[03:53.380] but it doesn't matter
[03:57.235] when the poet sings