| Song | Yr Husband |
| Artist | Kevin Devine |
| Album | Brother's Blood |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Devine | |
| Your husband, | |
| He drinks like a writer, | |
| But he writes like a banker, | |
| I hope his pens all run dry. | |
| You watch him from your cave in the corner, | |
| Full moon eyes flame and flicker, | |
| The wild way that I like. | |
| From my part, | |
| I pretend I don't notice | |
| Dumb friend you're a poet, | |
| And I could do this all night. | |
| And I'll stay like that, | |
| Hands locked in my lap, | |
| What I want jailed up in my mind, | |
| Until I slide to sleep | |
| Where you're waitin' for me, | |
| And we do what we want to, | |
| And shut ourselves off for the night. | |
| Til morning barrels in like a brides maid, | |
| Drunk and desperate for her day, | |
| Drags me out, picks a fight. | |
| And I see I'm alone here | |
| Picture frames and a hot plate | |
| Stubborn sun spites the hallways | |
| Paint chips blink yellow white. | |
| And I'm stretching, in the act of forgetting, | |
| Bear teeth and blood letting, | |
| Signals crossed half my life. | |
| And the local grown | |
| Sees your notes towards my home, | |
| Dreaming fits as we crawl underground, | |
| And you're shedding skin, | |
| So I keep what I can. | |
| Yeah I fill up my pockets, | |
| And stuff all that's left in my mouth. | |
| Now you are a part of me, | |
| For as long as I sleep. | |
| I could trick myself into a trance, | |
| Where were as firm as facts, | |
| And I don't give you back | |
| Every morning the sun comes to shuttle you back to your man. |
| zuo qu : Devine | |
| Your husband, | |
| He drinks like a writer, | |
| But he writes like a banker, | |
| I hope his pens all run dry. | |
| You watch him from your cave in the corner, | |
| Full moon eyes flame and flicker, | |
| The wild way that I like. | |
| From my part, | |
| I pretend I don' t notice | |
| Dumb friend you' re a poet, | |
| And I could do this all night. | |
| And I' ll stay like that, | |
| Hands locked in my lap, | |
| What I want jailed up in my mind, | |
| Until I slide to sleep | |
| Where you' re waitin' for me, | |
| And we do what we want to, | |
| And shut ourselves off for the night. | |
| Til morning barrels in like a brides maid, | |
| Drunk and desperate for her day, | |
| Drags me out, picks a fight. | |
| And I see I' m alone here | |
| Picture frames and a hot plate | |
| Stubborn sun spites the hallways | |
| Paint chips blink yellow white. | |
| And I' m stretching, in the act of forgetting, | |
| Bear teeth and blood letting, | |
| Signals crossed half my life. | |
| And the local grown | |
| Sees your notes towards my home, | |
| Dreaming fits as we crawl underground, | |
| And you' re shedding skin, | |
| So I keep what I can. | |
| Yeah I fill up my pockets, | |
| And stuff all that' s left in my mouth. | |
| Now you are a part of me, | |
| For as long as I sleep. | |
| I could trick myself into a trance, | |
| Where were as firm as facts, | |
| And I don' t give you back | |
| Every morning the sun comes to shuttle you back to your man. |
| zuò qǔ : Devine | |
| Your husband, | |
| He drinks like a writer, | |
| But he writes like a banker, | |
| I hope his pens all run dry. | |
| You watch him from your cave in the corner, | |
| Full moon eyes flame and flicker, | |
| The wild way that I like. | |
| From my part, | |
| I pretend I don' t notice | |
| Dumb friend you' re a poet, | |
| And I could do this all night. | |
| And I' ll stay like that, | |
| Hands locked in my lap, | |
| What I want jailed up in my mind, | |
| Until I slide to sleep | |
| Where you' re waitin' for me, | |
| And we do what we want to, | |
| And shut ourselves off for the night. | |
| Til morning barrels in like a brides maid, | |
| Drunk and desperate for her day, | |
| Drags me out, picks a fight. | |
| And I see I' m alone here | |
| Picture frames and a hot plate | |
| Stubborn sun spites the hallways | |
| Paint chips blink yellow white. | |
| And I' m stretching, in the act of forgetting, | |
| Bear teeth and blood letting, | |
| Signals crossed half my life. | |
| And the local grown | |
| Sees your notes towards my home, | |
| Dreaming fits as we crawl underground, | |
| And you' re shedding skin, | |
| So I keep what I can. | |
| Yeah I fill up my pockets, | |
| And stuff all that' s left in my mouth. | |
| Now you are a part of me, | |
| For as long as I sleep. | |
| I could trick myself into a trance, | |
| Where were as firm as facts, | |
| And I don' t give you back | |
| Every morning the sun comes to shuttle you back to your man. |