Song | Wickerman |
Artist | Pulp |
Album | We Love Life |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Candida Doyle/Jarvis Cocker/Mark Webber/Nick Banks/Steve Mackey | |
作词 : Nick Banks/Jarvis Cocker/Candida Doyle/Steve Mackey/Mark Webber | |
Just behind the station | |
Before you reach the traffic island | |
A river runs through a concrete channel | |
I took you there once | |
I think it was after the | |
Lead millThe water was dirty and it smelt of industrialization | |
Little masters coughing their lungs up | |
And globules, the color of tomato ketchup | |
But it flows, yeah, it flows | |
Yeah, underneath the city | |
Through dirty brickwork conduits | |
Connecting white witches on the | |
MoorWith Pre- | |
Raphaelites, down in | |
Broom hall | |
Beneath the old | |
Trebor factory | |
That burnt down in the early seventies | |
Leaving an antiquated sweet-shop smell | |
And caverns of nougat and caramel | |
Nougat, yeah, nougat and caramel | |
And the river flows on | |
Yeah, the river flows on | |
Beneath pudgy fifteen year olds addicted to coffee whitener | |
Courting couples, naked on | |
Northern Upholstery | |
And pensioners gathering dust like bowls of plastic tulips | |
And it finally comes above ground again at | |
Forge DamThe place where we first met | |
I went there again for old time's sake | |
Hoping to find the child's toy horse ride | |
That played such a ridiculously tragic tune | |
It was still there | |
But none of the kids seemed interested in riding it | |
And the cafe was still there too | |
The same press-in plastic letters on the price list | |
And scuffed | |
Formica-top tables | |
I sat as close as possible to the seat | |
Where I'd met you that autumn afternoon | |
And then, after what seemed | |
Like hours of thinking about it | |
I finally took your face in my hands | |
And I kissed you for the first time | |
And a feeling like electricity flowed through my whole body | |
And I knew immediately | |
I'd entered a completely different world | |
And all the time, in the background | |
The sound of that ridiculously heartbreaking child's ride outside | |
At the other end of town | |
The river flows underneath an old railway viaduct | |
I went there with you once | |
Except you were somebody else | |
And we gazed down | |
At the sludgy brown surface of the water together | |
Then a passer by told us | |
That it used to be a local custom | |
To jump off the viaduct into the river | |
When coming home from the pub on a | |
Saturday night | |
But that this custom had died out | |
When someone jumped and landed too near to the riverbank | |
And had sunk in the mud there and drowned | |
Before anyone could reach them | |
Maybe he'd just made the whole story up | |
You'd never get me to jump off that bridge | |
No chance, never in a million years | |
Yeah, a river flows underneath this city | |
I'd like to go there with you now, my pretty | |
And follow it on for miles and miles | |
Below other people's ordinary lives | |
Occasionally catching a glimpse of the moon | |
Through man-hole covers along the route | |
Yeah, it's dark sometimes but if you hold my hand | |
I think I know the way | |
Oh, this is as far as we got last time | |
But if we go just another mile | |
We will surface, surrounded by grass and trees | |
And that fly-over that takes the cars to cities | |
Buds that explode at the slightest touch | |
Nettles that sting but not too much | |
I've never been past this point | |
What lies ahead, | |
I really could not say | |
And I used to live just by the river | |
In a dis-used factory, just off the | |
WickerAnd the river flowed by, day after day | |
On one day | |
I thought, "One day, I will follow it" | |
But that day never came | |
I moved away and lost track | |
But tonight, | |
I am thinking | |
About making my way back | |
I may find you there and float on | |
Wherever the river may take me | |
Wherever the river may take me | |
Wherever the river may take us | |
Wherever it wants us to go | |
Wherever it wants us to go |
zuo qu : Candida Doyle Jarvis Cocker Mark Webber Nick Banks Steve Mackey | |
zuo ci : Nick Banks Jarvis Cocker Candida Doyle Steve Mackey Mark Webber | |
Just behind the station | |
Before you reach the traffic island | |
A river runs through a concrete channel | |
I took you there once | |
I think it was after the | |
Lead millThe water was dirty and it smelt of industrialization | |
Little masters coughing their lungs up | |
And globules, the color of tomato ketchup | |
But it flows, yeah, it flows | |
Yeah, underneath the city | |
Through dirty brickwork conduits | |
Connecting white witches on the | |
MoorWith Pre | |
Raphaelites, down in | |
Broom hall | |
Beneath the old | |
Trebor factory | |
That burnt down in the early seventies | |
Leaving an antiquated sweetshop smell | |
And caverns of nougat and caramel | |
Nougat, yeah, nougat and caramel | |
And the river flows on | |
Yeah, the river flows on | |
Beneath pudgy fifteen year olds addicted to coffee whitener | |
Courting couples, naked on | |
Northern Upholstery | |
And pensioners gathering dust like bowls of plastic tulips | |
And it finally comes above ground again at | |
Forge DamThe place where we first met | |
I went there again for old time' s sake | |
Hoping to find the child' s toy horse ride | |
That played such a ridiculously tragic tune | |
It was still there | |
But none of the kids seemed interested in riding it | |
And the cafe was still there too | |
The same pressin plastic letters on the price list | |
And scuffed | |
Formicatop tables | |
I sat as close as possible to the seat | |
Where I' d met you that autumn afternoon | |
And then, after what seemed | |
Like hours of thinking about it | |
I finally took your face in my hands | |
And I kissed you for the first time | |
And a feeling like electricity flowed through my whole body | |
And I knew immediately | |
I' d entered a completely different world | |
And all the time, in the background | |
The sound of that ridiculously heartbreaking child' s ride outside | |
At the other end of town | |
The river flows underneath an old railway viaduct | |
I went there with you once | |
Except you were somebody else | |
And we gazed down | |
At the sludgy brown surface of the water together | |
Then a passer by told us | |
That it used to be a local custom | |
To jump off the viaduct into the river | |
When coming home from the pub on a | |
Saturday night | |
But that this custom had died out | |
When someone jumped and landed too near to the riverbank | |
And had sunk in the mud there and drowned | |
Before anyone could reach them | |
Maybe he' d just made the whole story up | |
You' d never get me to jump off that bridge | |
No chance, never in a million years | |
Yeah, a river flows underneath this city | |
I' d like to go there with you now, my pretty | |
And follow it on for miles and miles | |
Below other people' s ordinary lives | |
Occasionally catching a glimpse of the moon | |
Through manhole covers along the route | |
Yeah, it' s dark sometimes but if you hold my hand | |
I think I know the way | |
Oh, this is as far as we got last time | |
But if we go just another mile | |
We will surface, surrounded by grass and trees | |
And that flyover that takes the cars to cities | |
Buds that explode at the slightest touch | |
Nettles that sting but not too much | |
I' ve never been past this point | |
What lies ahead, | |
I really could not say | |
And I used to live just by the river | |
In a disused factory, just off the | |
WickerAnd the river flowed by, day after day | |
On one day | |
I thought, " One day, I will follow it" | |
But that day never came | |
I moved away and lost track | |
But tonight, | |
I am thinking | |
About making my way back | |
I may find you there and float on | |
Wherever the river may take me | |
Wherever the river may take me | |
Wherever the river may take us | |
Wherever it wants us to go | |
Wherever it wants us to go |
zuò qǔ : Candida Doyle Jarvis Cocker Mark Webber Nick Banks Steve Mackey | |
zuò cí : Nick Banks Jarvis Cocker Candida Doyle Steve Mackey Mark Webber | |
Just behind the station | |
Before you reach the traffic island | |
A river runs through a concrete channel | |
I took you there once | |
I think it was after the | |
Lead millThe water was dirty and it smelt of industrialization | |
Little masters coughing their lungs up | |
And globules, the color of tomato ketchup | |
But it flows, yeah, it flows | |
Yeah, underneath the city | |
Through dirty brickwork conduits | |
Connecting white witches on the | |
MoorWith Pre | |
Raphaelites, down in | |
Broom hall | |
Beneath the old | |
Trebor factory | |
That burnt down in the early seventies | |
Leaving an antiquated sweetshop smell | |
And caverns of nougat and caramel | |
Nougat, yeah, nougat and caramel | |
And the river flows on | |
Yeah, the river flows on | |
Beneath pudgy fifteen year olds addicted to coffee whitener | |
Courting couples, naked on | |
Northern Upholstery | |
And pensioners gathering dust like bowls of plastic tulips | |
And it finally comes above ground again at | |
Forge DamThe place where we first met | |
I went there again for old time' s sake | |
Hoping to find the child' s toy horse ride | |
That played such a ridiculously tragic tune | |
It was still there | |
But none of the kids seemed interested in riding it | |
And the cafe was still there too | |
The same pressin plastic letters on the price list | |
And scuffed | |
Formicatop tables | |
I sat as close as possible to the seat | |
Where I' d met you that autumn afternoon | |
And then, after what seemed | |
Like hours of thinking about it | |
I finally took your face in my hands | |
And I kissed you for the first time | |
And a feeling like electricity flowed through my whole body | |
And I knew immediately | |
I' d entered a completely different world | |
And all the time, in the background | |
The sound of that ridiculously heartbreaking child' s ride outside | |
At the other end of town | |
The river flows underneath an old railway viaduct | |
I went there with you once | |
Except you were somebody else | |
And we gazed down | |
At the sludgy brown surface of the water together | |
Then a passer by told us | |
That it used to be a local custom | |
To jump off the viaduct into the river | |
When coming home from the pub on a | |
Saturday night | |
But that this custom had died out | |
When someone jumped and landed too near to the riverbank | |
And had sunk in the mud there and drowned | |
Before anyone could reach them | |
Maybe he' d just made the whole story up | |
You' d never get me to jump off that bridge | |
No chance, never in a million years | |
Yeah, a river flows underneath this city | |
I' d like to go there with you now, my pretty | |
And follow it on for miles and miles | |
Below other people' s ordinary lives | |
Occasionally catching a glimpse of the moon | |
Through manhole covers along the route | |
Yeah, it' s dark sometimes but if you hold my hand | |
I think I know the way | |
Oh, this is as far as we got last time | |
But if we go just another mile | |
We will surface, surrounded by grass and trees | |
And that flyover that takes the cars to cities | |
Buds that explode at the slightest touch | |
Nettles that sting but not too much | |
I' ve never been past this point | |
What lies ahead, | |
I really could not say | |
And I used to live just by the river | |
In a disused factory, just off the | |
WickerAnd the river flowed by, day after day | |
On one day | |
I thought, " One day, I will follow it" | |
But that day never came | |
I moved away and lost track | |
But tonight, | |
I am thinking | |
About making my way back | |
I may find you there and float on | |
Wherever the river may take me | |
Wherever the river may take me | |
Wherever the river may take us | |
Wherever it wants us to go | |
Wherever it wants us to go |