Song | Red Light Nickel |
Artist | Kelly Joe Phelps |
Album | Tunesmith Retrofit |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Phelps | |
Trails the no home leave behind them | |
"God bless you" signs on a street corner lamp post | |
Maybe a vet of his own alley way | |
An "Ain't drunk yet wanna be" swallow song | |
Ain't drunk yet wanna be | |
Bits of rubber hanging by a needle | |
Thread between childhood and where this is now | |
How does one wither or whittle down a tree | |
For blossoms that try to bear right circumstance | |
Blossoms that try to bear | |
So, it's good out there? Better than some... | |
Folks keep trying to bring back the summer | |
That returned an unreturnable smile | |
Shoe string in a nether wind | |
Fish bite on a silver hook | |
Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad | |
Hungry, it is, tired and old | |
30 or 80 years, ticket the same | |
The game stay's the right of the passing in time | |
Surrogate rhyme lingers tip o' the tongue | |
Surrogate rhyme lingers | |
So, it's good out there? Better than some... | |
Folks keep trying to bring back that summer | |
That returned an unreturnable smile | |
Shoe string in a nether wind | |
Fish bite on a silver hook | |
Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad | |
When I was young, my dreams flew in colors | |
Even did as the sore ocean rumbled | |
Now my feet wander the length of new countries | |
Red light holding my vision to come | |
And a green light holding my vision | |
And it sounds like dad | |
It sounds like dad | |
And it sounds like dad |
zuo ci : Phelps | |
Trails the no home leave behind them | |
" God bless you" signs on a street corner lamp post | |
Maybe a vet of his own alley way | |
An " Ain' t drunk yet wanna be" swallow song | |
Ain' t drunk yet wanna be | |
Bits of rubber hanging by a needle | |
Thread between childhood and where this is now | |
How does one wither or whittle down a tree | |
For blossoms that try to bear right circumstance | |
Blossoms that try to bear | |
So, it' s good out there? Better than some... | |
Folks keep trying to bring back the summer | |
That returned an unreturnable smile | |
Shoe string in a nether wind | |
Fish bite on a silver hook | |
Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad | |
Hungry, it is, tired and old | |
30 or 80 years, ticket the same | |
The game stay' s the right of the passing in time | |
Surrogate rhyme lingers tip o' the tongue | |
Surrogate rhyme lingers | |
So, it' s good out there? Better than some... | |
Folks keep trying to bring back that summer | |
That returned an unreturnable smile | |
Shoe string in a nether wind | |
Fish bite on a silver hook | |
Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad | |
When I was young, my dreams flew in colors | |
Even did as the sore ocean rumbled | |
Now my feet wander the length of new countries | |
Red light holding my vision to come | |
And a green light holding my vision | |
And it sounds like dad | |
It sounds like dad | |
And it sounds like dad |
zuò cí : Phelps | |
Trails the no home leave behind them | |
" God bless you" signs on a street corner lamp post | |
Maybe a vet of his own alley way | |
An " Ain' t drunk yet wanna be" swallow song | |
Ain' t drunk yet wanna be | |
Bits of rubber hanging by a needle | |
Thread between childhood and where this is now | |
How does one wither or whittle down a tree | |
For blossoms that try to bear right circumstance | |
Blossoms that try to bear | |
So, it' s good out there? Better than some... | |
Folks keep trying to bring back the summer | |
That returned an unreturnable smile | |
Shoe string in a nether wind | |
Fish bite on a silver hook | |
Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad | |
Hungry, it is, tired and old | |
30 or 80 years, ticket the same | |
The game stay' s the right of the passing in time | |
Surrogate rhyme lingers tip o' the tongue | |
Surrogate rhyme lingers | |
So, it' s good out there? Better than some... | |
Folks keep trying to bring back that summer | |
That returned an unreturnable smile | |
Shoe string in a nether wind | |
Fish bite on a silver hook | |
Soft step in the stairwell that sounds like dad | |
When I was young, my dreams flew in colors | |
Even did as the sore ocean rumbled | |
Now my feet wander the length of new countries | |
Red light holding my vision to come | |
And a green light holding my vision | |
And it sounds like dad | |
It sounds like dad | |
And it sounds like dad |