Little Apples Lyrics
| Song | Little Apples |
| Artist | Momus |
| Album | Folktronic |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Currie | |
| Lying in the nude with my Apple G4 cube | |
| I am rendering a porcupine in Bryce | |
| And in Stratavision Pro I'm designing where to grow | |
| Little apples when I build a hay bale house | |
| I heard on Ananova while snoozing in the clover | |
| They've mapped the human genotype at last | |
| And when the news was done I looked up into the sun | |
| Through my Fuji DV1 and photographed a lone | |
| Golden eagle like a Stealth jet on a test | |
| As the cliches turn to truths | |
| Like the trees begin to lose | |
| Their leaves I think | |
| I've lost where I belong | |
| Tears fill up my eyes | |
| Cos I'm leaving life behind | |
| To live forever in a country music song | |
| I drank and then I lied | |
| I shot and then I died | |
| I woke up under open country sky | |
| Is West Virginia real | |
| Here on my windshield | |
| It sure as hell looks strange | |
| In the weird Blue Mountain rain | |
| Like a figment of my melancholy mind | |
| The seasons as they turn | |
| A log fire as it burns | |
| Country music always at my heels | |
| I'm becoming all the songs | |
| I've been living them so long | |
| I sometimes sing the words in Japanese | |
| Break me out of jail | |
| Before my memory fails | |
| I don't believe in destiny or God | |
| Did a flying sauce come | |
| Flying from the sun | |
| And fry my brain and dazzle me with fog | |
| Did it take my soul away | |
| Is that why it's all so strange | |
| I've forgotten the refrain | |
| Bury me at sea | |
| Say Who the hell was he? | |
| Or weep on bended knee | |
| But say these lines: | |
| 'Here lies a fool who never knew | |
| Who he really was and threw away the little apples | |
| The little apples of his mind' |
| zuo ci : Currie | |
| Lying in the nude with my Apple G4 cube | |
| I am rendering a porcupine in Bryce | |
| And in Stratavision Pro I' m designing where to grow | |
| Little apples when I build a hay bale house | |
| I heard on Ananova while snoozing in the clover | |
| They' ve mapped the human genotype at last | |
| And when the news was done I looked up into the sun | |
| Through my Fuji DV1 and photographed a lone | |
| Golden eagle like a Stealth jet on a test | |
| As the cliches turn to truths | |
| Like the trees begin to lose | |
| Their leaves I think | |
| I' ve lost where I belong | |
| Tears fill up my eyes | |
| Cos I' m leaving life behind | |
| To live forever in a country music song | |
| I drank and then I lied | |
| I shot and then I died | |
| I woke up under open country sky | |
| Is West Virginia real | |
| Here on my windshield | |
| It sure as hell looks strange | |
| In the weird Blue Mountain rain | |
| Like a figment of my melancholy mind | |
| The seasons as they turn | |
| A log fire as it burns | |
| Country music always at my heels | |
| I' m becoming all the songs | |
| I' ve been living them so long | |
| I sometimes sing the words in Japanese | |
| Break me out of jail | |
| Before my memory fails | |
| I don' t believe in destiny or God | |
| Did a flying sauce come | |
| Flying from the sun | |
| And fry my brain and dazzle me with fog | |
| Did it take my soul away | |
| Is that why it' s all so strange | |
| I' ve forgotten the refrain | |
| Bury me at sea | |
| Say Who the hell was he? | |
| Or weep on bended knee | |
| But say these lines: | |
| ' Here lies a fool who never knew | |
| Who he really was and threw away the little apples | |
| The little apples of his mind' |
| zuò cí : Currie | |
| Lying in the nude with my Apple G4 cube | |
| I am rendering a porcupine in Bryce | |
| And in Stratavision Pro I' m designing where to grow | |
| Little apples when I build a hay bale house | |
| I heard on Ananova while snoozing in the clover | |
| They' ve mapped the human genotype at last | |
| And when the news was done I looked up into the sun | |
| Through my Fuji DV1 and photographed a lone | |
| Golden eagle like a Stealth jet on a test | |
| As the cliches turn to truths | |
| Like the trees begin to lose | |
| Their leaves I think | |
| I' ve lost where I belong | |
| Tears fill up my eyes | |
| Cos I' m leaving life behind | |
| To live forever in a country music song | |
| I drank and then I lied | |
| I shot and then I died | |
| I woke up under open country sky | |
| Is West Virginia real | |
| Here on my windshield | |
| It sure as hell looks strange | |
| In the weird Blue Mountain rain | |
| Like a figment of my melancholy mind | |
| The seasons as they turn | |
| A log fire as it burns | |
| Country music always at my heels | |
| I' m becoming all the songs | |
| I' ve been living them so long | |
| I sometimes sing the words in Japanese | |
| Break me out of jail | |
| Before my memory fails | |
| I don' t believe in destiny or God | |
| Did a flying sauce come | |
| Flying from the sun | |
| And fry my brain and dazzle me with fog | |
| Did it take my soul away | |
| Is that why it' s all so strange | |
| I' ve forgotten the refrain | |
| Bury me at sea | |
| Say Who the hell was he? | |
| Or weep on bended knee | |
| But say these lines: | |
| ' Here lies a fool who never knew | |
| Who he really was and threw away the little apples | |
| The little apples of his mind' |
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