| 作曲 : Paul Weller | |
| 作词 : Paul Weller | |
| Better stop dreaming of the quiet life | |
| 'Cause it's the one we'll never know | |
| And quit running for the runaway bus | |
| 'Cause those rosey days are few | |
| And...stop apologising for the things you've never done | |
| 'Cause time is short and life is cruel | |
| But it's up to us to change | |
| This town called Malice | |
| Rows and rows of disused milk floats | |
| Stand dying in the dairy yard | |
| And a hundred lonely housewives | |
| Clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts | |
| Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry | |
| It's enough to make you stop believing | |
| When tears come fast and furious | |
| In a town called Malice | |
| Yeah | |
| Struggle after struggle, year after year | |
| The atmosphere's a fine blend of ice | |
| I'm almost stone cold dead | |
| In a town called Malice | |
| Ooh, yeah | |
| A whole street's belief in Sunday's roast beef | |
| Gets dashed against the co-op | |
| To either cut down on beer or the kids' new gear | |
| It's a big decision in a town called Malice | |
| Ooh, yeah | |
| Ooh | |
| The ghost of a steam train echoes down my track | |
| It's at the moment bound for nowhere | |
| Just going 'round and 'round, oh | |
| Playground kids and creaking swings | |
| Lost laughter in the breeze | |
| I could go on for hours and I probably will | |
| But I'd sooner put some joy back in | |
| This town called Malice, ooh | |
| This town called Malice, yeah | |
| This town called Malice |
| zuo qu : Paul Weller | |
| zuo ci : Paul Weller | |
| Better stop dreaming of the quiet life | |
| ' Cause it' s the one we' ll never know | |
| And quit running for the runaway bus | |
| ' Cause those rosey days are few | |
| And... stop apologising for the things you' ve never done | |
| ' Cause time is short and life is cruel | |
| But it' s up to us to change | |
| This town called Malice | |
| Rows and rows of disused milk floats | |
| Stand dying in the dairy yard | |
| And a hundred lonely housewives | |
| Clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts | |
| Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry | |
| It' s enough to make you stop believing | |
| When tears come fast and furious | |
| In a town called Malice | |
| Yeah | |
| Struggle after struggle, year after year | |
| The atmosphere' s a fine blend of ice | |
| I' m almost stone cold dead | |
| In a town called Malice | |
| Ooh, yeah | |
| A whole street' s belief in Sunday' s roast beef | |
| Gets dashed against the coop | |
| To either cut down on beer or the kids' new gear | |
| It' s a big decision in a town called Malice | |
| Ooh, yeah | |
| Ooh | |
| The ghost of a steam train echoes down my track | |
| It' s at the moment bound for nowhere | |
| Just going ' round and ' round, oh | |
| Playground kids and creaking swings | |
| Lost laughter in the breeze | |
| I could go on for hours and I probably will | |
| But I' d sooner put some joy back in | |
| This town called Malice, ooh | |
| This town called Malice, yeah | |
| This town called Malice |
| zuò qǔ : Paul Weller | |
| zuò cí : Paul Weller | |
| Better stop dreaming of the quiet life | |
| ' Cause it' s the one we' ll never know | |
| And quit running for the runaway bus | |
| ' Cause those rosey days are few | |
| And... stop apologising for the things you' ve never done | |
| ' Cause time is short and life is cruel | |
| But it' s up to us to change | |
| This town called Malice | |
| Rows and rows of disused milk floats | |
| Stand dying in the dairy yard | |
| And a hundred lonely housewives | |
| Clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts | |
| Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry | |
| It' s enough to make you stop believing | |
| When tears come fast and furious | |
| In a town called Malice | |
| Yeah | |
| Struggle after struggle, year after year | |
| The atmosphere' s a fine blend of ice | |
| I' m almost stone cold dead | |
| In a town called Malice | |
| Ooh, yeah | |
| A whole street' s belief in Sunday' s roast beef | |
| Gets dashed against the coop | |
| To either cut down on beer or the kids' new gear | |
| It' s a big decision in a town called Malice | |
| Ooh, yeah | |
| Ooh | |
| The ghost of a steam train echoes down my track | |
| It' s at the moment bound for nowhere | |
| Just going ' round and ' round, oh | |
| Playground kids and creaking swings | |
| Lost laughter in the breeze | |
| I could go on for hours and I probably will | |
| But I' d sooner put some joy back in | |
| This town called Malice, ooh | |
| This town called Malice, yeah | |
| This town called Malice |
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