| Song | Sour Shores |
| Artist | Portastatic |
| Album | Be Still Please |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : McCaughan | |
| Even at the end of a day run ragged | |
| Boxed in, locked out and haggard | |
| There was the cluster of milky lights | |
| Over the black hills; they ring this town | |
| And you knew they'd be comin' down | |
| Yeah, you knew they'd be comin' down | |
| To swing low over the maritime | |
| So thick, and without age | |
| There's a place where even the old and used can hide | |
| Until the light spills out of the open door | |
| And you feel young again at the offer of a ride | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride | |
| Surf's up, surf's up on sour shores | |
| Oh, on our sour shores | |
| You may black out your windows now | |
| But I have not forgotten yours | |
| Rain down, rain down on rotten doors | |
| On down our rotten doors | |
| And in the night you step outside | |
| And wonder what this life is for | |
| So put your ear to the door | |
| Do you remember how the clues were scattered | |
| A curled note in a buried box | |
| Bone binding cracked from the years in the ground | |
| But not shattered | |
| Oh, your grandfather knew what mattered | |
| Yeah, he knew, and he left it to you | |
| So clear your head | |
| Forget your bed tonight | |
| Go where the sand glows black not red tonight | |
| It's not a happy ending | |
| It's just an escape from the light | |
| And it's better than you ever read | |
| Even if it's only in your sleepy head | |
| Surf's up, surf's up on sour shores | |
| Oh, on our sour shores | |
| You may black out your windows now | |
| But I have not forgotten yours | |
| Rain down, rain down on rotten doors | |
| On down our rotten doors | |
| Our wings may not be fit to fly | |
| But you will be weightless at your core | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here's your ride |
| zuo ci : McCaughan | |
| Even at the end of a day run ragged | |
| Boxed in, locked out and haggard | |
| There was the cluster of milky lights | |
| Over the black hills they ring this town | |
| And you knew they' d be comin' down | |
| Yeah, you knew they' d be comin' down | |
| To swing low over the maritime | |
| So thick, and without age | |
| There' s a place where even the old and used can hide | |
| Until the light spills out of the open door | |
| And you feel young again at the offer of a ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Surf' s up, surf' s up on sour shores | |
| Oh, on our sour shores | |
| You may black out your windows now | |
| But I have not forgotten yours | |
| Rain down, rain down on rotten doors | |
| On down our rotten doors | |
| And in the night you step outside | |
| And wonder what this life is for | |
| So put your ear to the door | |
| Do you remember how the clues were scattered | |
| A curled note in a buried box | |
| Bone binding cracked from the years in the ground | |
| But not shattered | |
| Oh, your grandfather knew what mattered | |
| Yeah, he knew, and he left it to you | |
| So clear your head | |
| Forget your bed tonight | |
| Go where the sand glows black not red tonight | |
| It' s not a happy ending | |
| It' s just an escape from the light | |
| And it' s better than you ever read | |
| Even if it' s only in your sleepy head | |
| Surf' s up, surf' s up on sour shores | |
| Oh, on our sour shores | |
| You may black out your windows now | |
| But I have not forgotten yours | |
| Rain down, rain down on rotten doors | |
| On down our rotten doors | |
| Our wings may not be fit to fly | |
| But you will be weightless at your core | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride |
| zuò cí : McCaughan | |
| Even at the end of a day run ragged | |
| Boxed in, locked out and haggard | |
| There was the cluster of milky lights | |
| Over the black hills they ring this town | |
| And you knew they' d be comin' down | |
| Yeah, you knew they' d be comin' down | |
| To swing low over the maritime | |
| So thick, and without age | |
| There' s a place where even the old and used can hide | |
| Until the light spills out of the open door | |
| And you feel young again at the offer of a ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Surf' s up, surf' s up on sour shores | |
| Oh, on our sour shores | |
| You may black out your windows now | |
| But I have not forgotten yours | |
| Rain down, rain down on rotten doors | |
| On down our rotten doors | |
| And in the night you step outside | |
| And wonder what this life is for | |
| So put your ear to the door | |
| Do you remember how the clues were scattered | |
| A curled note in a buried box | |
| Bone binding cracked from the years in the ground | |
| But not shattered | |
| Oh, your grandfather knew what mattered | |
| Yeah, he knew, and he left it to you | |
| So clear your head | |
| Forget your bed tonight | |
| Go where the sand glows black not red tonight | |
| It' s not a happy ending | |
| It' s just an escape from the light | |
| And it' s better than you ever read | |
| Even if it' s only in your sleepy head | |
| Surf' s up, surf' s up on sour shores | |
| Oh, on our sour shores | |
| You may black out your windows now | |
| But I have not forgotten yours | |
| Rain down, rain down on rotten doors | |
| On down our rotten doors | |
| Our wings may not be fit to fly | |
| But you will be weightless at your core | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride | |
| Oh yeah, here' s your ride |