Song | Black Buttons |
Artist | Portastatic |
Album | Be Still Please |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : McCaughan | |
I watched the dust pile up around you | |
And your hands became so small | |
It was clear that year you were waiting | |
For way more than a call | |
You asked for smoke, you asked for silence | |
You rode 'round sofas stuffed with straw | |
While the sun burned through the curtains | |
All along that western wall | |
That scene became a ritual that fall | |
That same sun became a ghost | |
And when you see you don't believe | |
That anyone has any | |
Warmth left up their sleeve | |
Even your good blood gets dried up | |
It gets swept up with the leaves | |
To reveal some old graffiti we can't read | |
So put a shine on your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
I never knew what you could do to you | |
Well honey shine your black shoes | |
Oh you had some information | |
That you turned into a hymn | |
That you sang into the answering | |
Machines of all your friends | |
But they never got the message | |
For their ears are all of tin | |
We all write letters we never send | |
Well now the cyprus stands around you | |
And I hope that you feel safe | |
It's a painting from an auction | |
At some wasted old estate | |
Yeah they're always finding life | |
They never knew survived this place | |
And I hope the sunlight clears the branches to your face | |
'Cause when the clouds clear | |
The freezing winds come down that mountain's face | |
But there are streets we haven't walked | |
At night you can see this town from space | |
So put a shine on your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
I never knew what you could do to you | |
Oh honey shine your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
You never know what you can do for you |
zuo ci : McCaughan | |
I watched the dust pile up around you | |
And your hands became so small | |
It was clear that year you were waiting | |
For way more than a call | |
You asked for smoke, you asked for silence | |
You rode ' round sofas stuffed with straw | |
While the sun burned through the curtains | |
All along that western wall | |
That scene became a ritual that fall | |
That same sun became a ghost | |
And when you see you don' t believe | |
That anyone has any | |
Warmth left up their sleeve | |
Even your good blood gets dried up | |
It gets swept up with the leaves | |
To reveal some old graffiti we can' t read | |
So put a shine on your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
I never knew what you could do to you | |
Well honey shine your black shoes | |
Oh you had some information | |
That you turned into a hymn | |
That you sang into the answering | |
Machines of all your friends | |
But they never got the message | |
For their ears are all of tin | |
We all write letters we never send | |
Well now the cyprus stands around you | |
And I hope that you feel safe | |
It' s a painting from an auction | |
At some wasted old estate | |
Yeah they' re always finding life | |
They never knew survived this place | |
And I hope the sunlight clears the branches to your face | |
' Cause when the clouds clear | |
The freezing winds come down that mountain' s face | |
But there are streets we haven' t walked | |
At night you can see this town from space | |
So put a shine on your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
I never knew what you could do to you | |
Oh honey shine your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
You never know what you can do for you |
zuò cí : McCaughan | |
I watched the dust pile up around you | |
And your hands became so small | |
It was clear that year you were waiting | |
For way more than a call | |
You asked for smoke, you asked for silence | |
You rode ' round sofas stuffed with straw | |
While the sun burned through the curtains | |
All along that western wall | |
That scene became a ritual that fall | |
That same sun became a ghost | |
And when you see you don' t believe | |
That anyone has any | |
Warmth left up their sleeve | |
Even your good blood gets dried up | |
It gets swept up with the leaves | |
To reveal some old graffiti we can' t read | |
So put a shine on your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
I never knew what you could do to you | |
Well honey shine your black shoes | |
Oh you had some information | |
That you turned into a hymn | |
That you sang into the answering | |
Machines of all your friends | |
But they never got the message | |
For their ears are all of tin | |
We all write letters we never send | |
Well now the cyprus stands around you | |
And I hope that you feel safe | |
It' s a painting from an auction | |
At some wasted old estate | |
Yeah they' re always finding life | |
They never knew survived this place | |
And I hope the sunlight clears the branches to your face | |
' Cause when the clouds clear | |
The freezing winds come down that mountain' s face | |
But there are streets we haven' t walked | |
At night you can see this town from space | |
So put a shine on your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
I never knew what you could do to you | |
Oh honey shine your black shoes | |
Push your black buttons through | |
You never know what you can do for you |