Song | Blue Pedal |
Artist | Kitchens of Distinction |
Album | The Death of Cool |
作词 : Kitchens Of Distinction | |
All that was gold has lost its shine. | |
All that was sure has become obscured. | |
Yes there was autumn, | |
burnished and sleek. | |
Fit for smiling, winged gliding. | |
And now it's tarnished silver, | |
fading metal rusting hearts. | |
Press the cooling pedal of blue freeze. | |
As she must sleep again, | |
she must sleep again. | |
Turn the collapsing wheel of green. | |
Between deaths we are butter, | |
soft believing melting butter, | |
well fed and well spread. | |
Good fed on these deaths of our kind, | |
of our kind. | |
Spiralling outer and outer beyond | |
what is there, behind the realm of senses. | |
Beyond love, beyond our hopeless | |
humanness lies the other side of | |
the bleeding rainbow where bones are collected | |
and we have come selected to recover | |
from this polluted mist. | |
Between births we're tearing, | |
hard gurgling, snarling, fear, lean and wary, | |
alert untrusty. | |
Still fed on these deaths of our kind | |
where bones are collected and we have | |
come selected to recover | |
from this polluted mist. | |
Outer and outer and outer and outer and outer. |
zuò cí : Kitchens Of Distinction | |
All that was gold has lost its shine. | |
All that was sure has become obscured. | |
Yes there was autumn, | |
burnished and sleek. | |
Fit for smiling, winged gliding. | |
And now it' s tarnished silver, | |
fading metal rusting hearts. | |
Press the cooling pedal of blue freeze. | |
As she must sleep again, | |
she must sleep again. | |
Turn the collapsing wheel of green. | |
Between deaths we are butter, | |
soft believing melting butter, | |
well fed and well spread. | |
Good fed on these deaths of our kind, | |
of our kind. | |
Spiralling outer and outer beyond | |
what is there, behind the realm of senses. | |
Beyond love, beyond our hopeless | |
humanness lies the other side of | |
the bleeding rainbow where bones are collected | |
and we have come selected to recover | |
from this polluted mist. | |
Between births we' re tearing, | |
hard gurgling, snarling, fear, lean and wary, | |
alert untrusty. | |
Still fed on these deaths of our kind | |
where bones are collected and we have | |
come selected to recover | |
from this polluted mist. | |
Outer and outer and outer and outer and outer. |