Song | Falling Back In Fields Of Rape |
Artist | Current 93 |
Album | Dogs Blood Rising |
作词 : Current Ninety Three | |
War | |
In a foreign town | |
In a foreign land | |
Reaping time had come | |
In fields of swaying rape | |
It could not happen here | |
Pushed to one side with the flick of a wrist | |
Out of sight | |
And out of mind | |
Fallng back in fields of rape | |
In yellow heads of blossom | |
Mothers babies bleeding | |
You stand there laughing | |
Unquestioning unconfronting | |
Poetic lines on the art of dying | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
That was the way | |
Those were the horrors | |
As daddy went a-reaping | |
In nodding heads of rape | |
No mark on your spotless conscience | |
No blemish on your immaculate body | |
Untouched by sight or sound of misery | |
Close the eyes | |
Shift the responsibility | |
It was not you | |
It was not you | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My children | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
It could not happen here | |
Pushed to one side with a flick of the wrist | |
Out of sight | |
And out of mind | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
Poetic lines on the art of dying | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
That was the way | |
And those were the horrors | |
As daddy went a-reaping | |
In nodding heads of rape | |
No mark on your spotless conscience | |
No blemish on your immaculate body | |
Untouched by sight or sound of misery | |
Close the eyes | |
Shift the responsibility | |
It wasn't you | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My children | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
Here we go round the mulberry bush | |
The mulberry bush | |
The mulberry bush | |
Here we go round the mulberry bush | |
On a cold and frosty morning | |
In a foreign town | |
In a foreign land | |
Reaping time had come | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My love | |
And that was the way | |
And those were the horrors | |
As daddy went a-reaping | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My children | |
Crushed, crushed, crushed | |
In mud and wars | |
Mother children bleeding | |
You stand there laughing | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
Never eating | |
Bags of bones dying quietly | |
Homeless | |
Drinking foul water | |
Sorting garbage | |
With flies in heat | |
Raped | |
Axed | |
Burned with acid | |
Locked away for thirty years | |
Thrown out of a helicopter | |
Forced to labour endlessly | |
Castrated | |
Burned alive | |
Killed so easily by firing squads | |
In a foreign town | |
In a foreign land | |
Reaping time has come | |
They're falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
In fields of rape | |
They're falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
My love | |
And this is our way | |
And these are the horrors | |
As we go a-reaping | |
They're falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
In fields of rape | |
They're falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
My darling | |
And crushed, crushed, crushed | |
In mud and wars | |
Still you stand there laughing | |
They're falling back in fields of rape | |
In fields of rape they're falling back | |
My lovers | |
In fields of rape the ravens | |
Descend. the yellow beak slashes | |
Corn, the sickles are sharpened | |
And the cattle bleed, and reaping | |
Time has come, our voices grow | |
Shriller, and our eyes glitter, but | |
In this last summer the Rapture | |
Descends, and father's mask has | |
Turned to grey, and mother's | |
Breasts are leper white, and | |
Children's laughter cracks, and | |
Reaping time has come, body and | |
Blood, body and blood, body and | |
Blood, body and mud, body and | |
Blood, body and mud, and | |
Christ's eyes, I am weary, and | |
Christ's eyes, I want to melt | |
Bleeding Jesus, be quick, be quick | |
(And what would you do, my gentlest | |
One...?) | |
Falling back in fields of rape... |
zuò cí : Current Ninety Three | |
War | |
In a foreign town | |
In a foreign land | |
Reaping time had come | |
In fields of swaying rape | |
It could not happen here | |
Pushed to one side with the flick of a wrist | |
Out of sight | |
And out of mind | |
Fallng back in fields of rape | |
In yellow heads of blossom | |
Mothers babies bleeding | |
You stand there laughing | |
Unquestioning unconfronting | |
Poetic lines on the art of dying | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
That was the way | |
Those were the horrors | |
As daddy went areaping | |
In nodding heads of rape | |
No mark on your spotless conscience | |
No blemish on your immaculate body | |
Untouched by sight or sound of misery | |
Close the eyes | |
Shift the responsibility | |
It was not you | |
It was not you | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My children | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
It could not happen here | |
Pushed to one side with a flick of the wrist | |
Out of sight | |
And out of mind | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
Poetic lines on the art of dying | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
That was the way | |
And those were the horrors | |
As daddy went areaping | |
In nodding heads of rape | |
No mark on your spotless conscience | |
No blemish on your immaculate body | |
Untouched by sight or sound of misery | |
Close the eyes | |
Shift the responsibility | |
It wasn' t you | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My children | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
Here we go round the mulberry bush | |
The mulberry bush | |
The mulberry bush | |
Here we go round the mulberry bush | |
On a cold and frosty morning | |
In a foreign town | |
In a foreign land | |
Reaping time had come | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My love | |
And that was the way | |
And those were the horrors | |
As daddy went areaping | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
My children | |
Crushed, crushed, crushed | |
In mud and wars | |
Mother children bleeding | |
You stand there laughing | |
Falling back in fields of rape | |
Never eating | |
Bags of bones dying quietly | |
Homeless | |
Drinking foul water | |
Sorting garbage | |
With flies in heat | |
Raped | |
Axed | |
Burned with acid | |
Locked away for thirty years | |
Thrown out of a helicopter | |
Forced to labour endlessly | |
Castrated | |
Burned alive | |
Killed so easily by firing squads | |
In a foreign town | |
In a foreign land | |
Reaping time has come | |
They' re falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
In fields of rape | |
They' re falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
My love | |
And this is our way | |
And these are the horrors | |
As we go areaping | |
They' re falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
In fields of rape | |
They' re falling back | |
In fields of rape | |
My darling | |
And crushed, crushed, crushed | |
In mud and wars | |
Still you stand there laughing | |
They' re falling back in fields of rape | |
In fields of rape they' re falling back | |
My lovers | |
In fields of rape the ravens | |
Descend. the yellow beak slashes | |
Corn, the sickles are sharpened | |
And the cattle bleed, and reaping | |
Time has come, our voices grow | |
Shriller, and our eyes glitter, but | |
In this last summer the Rapture | |
Descends, and father' s mask has | |
Turned to grey, and mother' s | |
Breasts are leper white, and | |
Children' s laughter cracks, and | |
Reaping time has come, body and | |
Blood, body and blood, body and | |
Blood, body and mud, body and | |
Blood, body and mud, and | |
Christ' s eyes, I am weary, and | |
Christ' s eyes, I want to melt | |
Bleeding Jesus, be quick, be quick | |
And what would you do, my gentlest | |
One...? | |
Falling back in fields of rape... |