Song | Angels Of The Bowling Green |
Artist | Augie March |
Album | Sunset Studies |
作曲 : Richards | |
The children of this cold coast | |
Are throwing themselves off cliffs, | |
We know that they don't want to | |
But memory insists - | |
Memories of water, | |
Fantasies of fins, | |
So be off baby seal. | |
Swim little fish... | |
Under mackerel sun, you're unnatural | |
O how, how do they breathe? | |
And whales hear whales | |
When love comes down there, | |
But also from miles | |
Hear pain and there fear. | |
Pinned by the water pins, | |
Stuck by the ships, | |
Mild the bay seems, | |
Mild in the mist... | |
Under mackerel sun, you're unnatural. | |
O how, how do they breathe? | |
On days when the bay breaks, | |
And gales gut the shore, | |
They come up from the water's edge, | |
And they appear young no more - | |
White haired, widowed, and what they would have been. | |
Children at eternal play. | |
Angels of the bowling green. |
zuò qǔ : Richards | |
The children of this cold coast | |
Are throwing themselves off cliffs, | |
We know that they don' t want to | |
But memory insists | |
Memories of water, | |
Fantasies of fins, | |
So be off baby seal. | |
Swim little fish... | |
Under mackerel sun, you' re unnatural | |
O how, how do they breathe? | |
And whales hear whales | |
When love comes down there, | |
But also from miles | |
Hear pain and there fear. | |
Pinned by the water pins, | |
Stuck by the ships, | |
Mild the bay seems, | |
Mild in the mist... | |
Under mackerel sun, you' re unnatural. | |
O how, how do they breathe? | |
On days when the bay breaks, | |
And gales gut the shore, | |
They come up from the water' s edge, | |
And they appear young no more | |
White haired, widowed, and what they would have been. | |
Children at eternal play. | |
Angels of the bowling green. |