Song | From A Few Streets Over |
Artist | Ron Sexsmith |
Album | Ron Sexsmith |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Sexsmith | |
from a few streets over | |
before the sun goes down | |
you can hear it coming closer | |
to this dislocated shoulder | |
of an old and crooked town | |
that's when the ice cream van rolls around | |
but in the land of plenty | |
the money here is tight | |
the children here are many | |
and if you do have any | |
he will park his van outside | |
there waits the ice cream man with the cold dark eyes | |
for it's not a rockwell summer | |
or a world of dick and jane | |
and how it makes you shudder | |
like you used to hide from thunder | |
when you hear him coming down the lane | |
and you condemn the ice cream man to the world of flame | |
a sickly sweet wind is blowing | |
across the fields of hell | |
a liquorice night's unfolding | |
near a grave sight a corroded | |
old and burnt out carousel | |
here lies the ice cream man the devil treats him well |
zuo ci : Sexsmith | |
from a few streets over | |
before the sun goes down | |
you can hear it coming closer | |
to this dislocated shoulder | |
of an old and crooked town | |
that' s when the ice cream van rolls around | |
but in the land of plenty | |
the money here is tight | |
the children here are many | |
and if you do have any | |
he will park his van outside | |
there waits the ice cream man with the cold dark eyes | |
for it' s not a rockwell summer | |
or a world of dick and jane | |
and how it makes you shudder | |
like you used to hide from thunder | |
when you hear him coming down the lane | |
and you condemn the ice cream man to the world of flame | |
a sickly sweet wind is blowing | |
across the fields of hell | |
a liquorice night' s unfolding | |
near a grave sight a corroded | |
old and burnt out carousel | |
here lies the ice cream man the devil treats him well |
zuò cí : Sexsmith | |
from a few streets over | |
before the sun goes down | |
you can hear it coming closer | |
to this dislocated shoulder | |
of an old and crooked town | |
that' s when the ice cream van rolls around | |
but in the land of plenty | |
the money here is tight | |
the children here are many | |
and if you do have any | |
he will park his van outside | |
there waits the ice cream man with the cold dark eyes | |
for it' s not a rockwell summer | |
or a world of dick and jane | |
and how it makes you shudder | |
like you used to hide from thunder | |
when you hear him coming down the lane | |
and you condemn the ice cream man to the world of flame | |
a sickly sweet wind is blowing | |
across the fields of hell | |
a liquorice night' s unfolding | |
near a grave sight a corroded | |
old and burnt out carousel | |
here lies the ice cream man the devil treats him well |