Song | Shinbone Alley - Live |
Artist | Spin Doctors |
Album | Homebelly Groove |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Spin Doctors | |
Moonlight through the chicken wire, humming windowpane, | |
Lukewarm water gasping down a rusty drain | |
Big town's in need of mending, street lights make tooth some seams | |
Denim shadows shuffle in between the beams. | |
Different strokes for different folks so | |
Mind your manner and easy on the ethnic jokes | |
It's a dumbbell curve, your trying to tally, | |
All the way down to shin bone alley | |
Streets are metacarpal and flesh of asphalt calm | |
Buildings rise like fingers from a concrete palm | |
Yellow lit apartment trickle through the drapes | |
Windows frame each history hidden even from the fire escapes | |
Sullen winter sparrow lends wing to expanse of grey | |
Six-thirty-two in the morning on thanksgiving day | |
And the bums they hit their corners, the thunderbird rubs their bones | |
And the crack addicts stare at the snowflakes zigzagging down to greet jones | |
Different strokes for different folks so..... | |
Seven-thirty-two on the same day, your bare feet on the parquet | |
And the light so papery white shining past the microwave | |
Knuckles to eyeballs and elbows on the table | |
Spend the day gazing from the window gable.... |
zuo ci : Spin Doctors | |
Moonlight through the chicken wire, humming windowpane, | |
Lukewarm water gasping down a rusty drain | |
Big town' s in need of mending, street lights make tooth some seams | |
Denim shadows shuffle in between the beams. | |
Different strokes for different folks so | |
Mind your manner and easy on the ethnic jokes | |
It' s a dumbbell curve, your trying to tally, | |
All the way down to shin bone alley | |
Streets are metacarpal and flesh of asphalt calm | |
Buildings rise like fingers from a concrete palm | |
Yellow lit apartment trickle through the drapes | |
Windows frame each history hidden even from the fire escapes | |
Sullen winter sparrow lends wing to expanse of grey | |
Sixthirtytwo in the morning on thanksgiving day | |
And the bums they hit their corners, the thunderbird rubs their bones | |
And the crack addicts stare at the snowflakes zigzagging down to greet jones | |
Different strokes for different folks so..... | |
Seventhirtytwo on the same day, your bare feet on the parquet | |
And the light so papery white shining past the microwave | |
Knuckles to eyeballs and elbows on the table | |
Spend the day gazing from the window gable.... |
zuò cí : Spin Doctors | |
Moonlight through the chicken wire, humming windowpane, | |
Lukewarm water gasping down a rusty drain | |
Big town' s in need of mending, street lights make tooth some seams | |
Denim shadows shuffle in between the beams. | |
Different strokes for different folks so | |
Mind your manner and easy on the ethnic jokes | |
It' s a dumbbell curve, your trying to tally, | |
All the way down to shin bone alley | |
Streets are metacarpal and flesh of asphalt calm | |
Buildings rise like fingers from a concrete palm | |
Yellow lit apartment trickle through the drapes | |
Windows frame each history hidden even from the fire escapes | |
Sullen winter sparrow lends wing to expanse of grey | |
Sixthirtytwo in the morning on thanksgiving day | |
And the bums they hit their corners, the thunderbird rubs their bones | |
And the crack addicts stare at the snowflakes zigzagging down to greet jones | |
Different strokes for different folks so..... | |
Seventhirtytwo on the same day, your bare feet on the parquet | |
And the light so papery white shining past the microwave | |
Knuckles to eyeballs and elbows on the table | |
Spend the day gazing from the window gable.... |