Song | Little Hands |
Artist | The String Cheese Incident |
Album | A String Cheese Incident |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Nershi | |
Winding down the dusty trail | |
from Cathedral Butte | |
Walking towards the canyon floor | |
playing Anasasi flutes. | |
Eagles flying overhead | |
beneath the desert sky. | |
Makes me think of how they lived | |
many years gone by. | |
I wander here from time to time | |
to give my head some space. | |
Leave the noise and confusion. | |
Vanish without a trace. | |
Salt Creek runs through the grass | |
as you hum that canyon tune. | |
Brush against the desert sage | |
just like some sweet perfume | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
this canyon was their home. | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
they walked through the sand. | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
they painted these little hands. | |
Yes this is the timeless place | |
that's seen them come and go. | |
They packed it up way back when | |
and drifted on down the road. | |
The earth, the sun, the moon and the stars. | |
meant so much back then. | |
But the years go by and though you try | |
you can't bring them back again. |
zuo ci : Nershi | |
Winding down the dusty trail | |
from Cathedral Butte | |
Walking towards the canyon floor | |
playing Anasasi flutes. | |
Eagles flying overhead | |
beneath the desert sky. | |
Makes me think of how they lived | |
many years gone by. | |
I wander here from time to time | |
to give my head some space. | |
Leave the noise and confusion. | |
Vanish without a trace. | |
Salt Creek runs through the grass | |
as you hum that canyon tune. | |
Brush against the desert sage | |
just like some sweet perfume | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
this canyon was their home. | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
they walked through the sand. | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
they painted these little hands. | |
Yes this is the timeless place | |
that' s seen them come and go. | |
They packed it up way back when | |
and drifted on down the road. | |
The earth, the sun, the moon and the stars. | |
meant so much back then. | |
But the years go by and though you try | |
you can' t bring them back again. |
zuò cí : Nershi | |
Winding down the dusty trail | |
from Cathedral Butte | |
Walking towards the canyon floor | |
playing Anasasi flutes. | |
Eagles flying overhead | |
beneath the desert sky. | |
Makes me think of how they lived | |
many years gone by. | |
I wander here from time to time | |
to give my head some space. | |
Leave the noise and confusion. | |
Vanish without a trace. | |
Salt Creek runs through the grass | |
as you hum that canyon tune. | |
Brush against the desert sage | |
just like some sweet perfume | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
this canyon was their home. | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
they walked through the sand. | |
Eight hundred years ago | |
they painted these little hands. | |
Yes this is the timeless place | |
that' s seen them come and go. | |
They packed it up way back when | |
and drifted on down the road. | |
The earth, the sun, the moon and the stars. | |
meant so much back then. | |
But the years go by and though you try | |
you can' t bring them back again. |