Song | Matamoros Banks |
Artist | Bruce Springsteen |
Album | Devils & Dust |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Springsteen | |
Each year many die crossing the deserts, mountains, and rivers of our | |
southern border in search of a better life. Here I follow the journey | |
backwards, from the body at the river bottom, to the man walking across | |
the desert towards the banks of the Rio Grande. | |
For two days the river keeps you down | |
Then you rise to the light without a sound | |
Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards | |
The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars | |
Your clothes give way to the current and river stone | |
'Till every trace of who you ever were is gone | |
And the things of the earth they make their claim | |
That the things of heaven may do the same | |
Goodbye, my darling, for your love I give God thanks, | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Over rivers of stone and ancient ocean beds | |
I walk on sandals of twine and tire tread | |
My pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone | |
The pale moon opens the earth to its bones | |
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks | |
The touch of your loving fingertips | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Your sweet memory comes on the evenin' wind | |
I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again | |
The lights of Brownsville, across the river shine | |
A shout rings out and into the silty red river I dive | |
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks | |
A touch of your loving fingertips | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks |
zuo ci : Springsteen | |
Each year many die crossing the deserts, mountains, and rivers of our | |
southern border in search of a better life. Here I follow the journey | |
backwards, from the body at the river bottom, to the man walking across | |
the desert towards the banks of the Rio Grande. | |
For two days the river keeps you down | |
Then you rise to the light without a sound | |
Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards | |
The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars | |
Your clothes give way to the current and river stone | |
' Till every trace of who you ever were is gone | |
And the things of the earth they make their claim | |
That the things of heaven may do the same | |
Goodbye, my darling, for your love I give God thanks, | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Over rivers of stone and ancient ocean beds | |
I walk on sandals of twine and tire tread | |
My pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone | |
The pale moon opens the earth to its bones | |
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks | |
The touch of your loving fingertips | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Your sweet memory comes on the evenin' wind | |
I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again | |
The lights of Brownsville, across the river shine | |
A shout rings out and into the silty red river I dive | |
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks | |
A touch of your loving fingertips | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks |
zuò cí : Springsteen | |
Each year many die crossing the deserts, mountains, and rivers of our | |
southern border in search of a better life. Here I follow the journey | |
backwards, from the body at the river bottom, to the man walking across | |
the desert towards the banks of the Rio Grande. | |
For two days the river keeps you down | |
Then you rise to the light without a sound | |
Past the playgrounds and empty switching yards | |
The turtles eat the skin from your eyes, so they lay open to the stars | |
Your clothes give way to the current and river stone | |
' Till every trace of who you ever were is gone | |
And the things of the earth they make their claim | |
That the things of heaven may do the same | |
Goodbye, my darling, for your love I give God thanks, | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Over rivers of stone and ancient ocean beds | |
I walk on sandals of twine and tire tread | |
My pockets full of dust, my mouth filled with cool stone | |
The pale moon opens the earth to its bones | |
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks | |
The touch of your loving fingertips | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Your sweet memory comes on the evenin' wind | |
I sleep and dream of holding you in my arms again | |
The lights of Brownsville, across the river shine | |
A shout rings out and into the silty red river I dive | |
I long, my darling, for your kiss, for your sweet love I give God thanks | |
A touch of your loving fingertips | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros | |
Meet me on the Matamoros banks |