Song | The Last Spike |
Artist | Cowboy Junkies |
Album | Black Eyed Man |
作曲 : Timmins | |
Mornings feel so damn sad these days | |
without the call of the 8:15 | |
That old familiar echo | |
has finally died away | |
leaving nothing but a chill | |
where there once was a mighty scream | |
And I've watched the flat cars | |
take away our timber | |
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock | |
And now that we've got | |
nothing left to take we're told | |
that the wheels will stop turning, | |
the whistles will stop blowing, | |
these foolish dreams must stop | |
Last year they closed down the post office, | |
took the only flag we had in town | |
That old brick building | |
still stands like a cenotaph | |
to a vision lost and buried in | |
a very distant past | |
And I've watched the flat cars | |
take away our timber | |
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock | |
And now that we've got | |
nothing left to take we're told | |
that the wheels will stop turning, | |
the whistles will stop blowing, | |
these foolish dreams must stop | |
The longest train I've ever seen | |
was the train that you were on | |
I walked you to the station, | |
we kissed and you were gone | |
I dream at night about you coming home | |
The train in the station, | |
your uniform on fire | |
as you step onto the platform | |
the band plays a little louder, | |
and as we embrace your cap falls off | |
Oh, I guess these foolish dreams must stop | |
Mornings feel so damn sad these days | |
without the call of the 8:15 | |
Looks like this town is finally | |
going to die away | |
leaving nothing but broken promises | |
where there once was small town dreams | |
And I've watched the flat cars | |
take away our timber | |
I've watched the coal cars steal our rock | |
And now that we've got | |
nothing left to take we're told | |
that the TV station will be closing, | |
Main Street windows will need boarding, | |
that these foolish dreams must stop |
zuò qǔ : Timmins | |
Mornings feel so damn sad these days | |
without the call of the 8: 15 | |
That old familiar echo | |
has finally died away | |
leaving nothing but a chill | |
where there once was a mighty scream | |
And I' ve watched the flat cars | |
take away our timber | |
I' ve watched the coal cars steal our rock | |
And now that we' ve got | |
nothing left to take we' re told | |
that the wheels will stop turning, | |
the whistles will stop blowing, | |
these foolish dreams must stop | |
Last year they closed down the post office, | |
took the only flag we had in town | |
That old brick building | |
still stands like a cenotaph | |
to a vision lost and buried in | |
a very distant past | |
And I' ve watched the flat cars | |
take away our timber | |
I' ve watched the coal cars steal our rock | |
And now that we' ve got | |
nothing left to take we' re told | |
that the wheels will stop turning, | |
the whistles will stop blowing, | |
these foolish dreams must stop | |
The longest train I' ve ever seen | |
was the train that you were on | |
I walked you to the station, | |
we kissed and you were gone | |
I dream at night about you coming home | |
The train in the station, | |
your uniform on fire | |
as you step onto the platform | |
the band plays a little louder, | |
and as we embrace your cap falls off | |
Oh, I guess these foolish dreams must stop | |
Mornings feel so damn sad these days | |
without the call of the 8: 15 | |
Looks like this town is finally | |
going to die away | |
leaving nothing but broken promises | |
where there once was small town dreams | |
And I' ve watched the flat cars | |
take away our timber | |
I' ve watched the coal cars steal our rock | |
And now that we' ve got | |
nothing left to take we' re told | |
that the TV station will be closing, | |
Main Street windows will need boarding, | |
that these foolish dreams must stop |