| Song | Steven And I In The Field Of Stars |
| Artist | Current 93 |
| Album | Of Ruine Or Some Blazing Starre |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Tibet | |
| Circles within circles | |
| We ride through them all | |
| Circles within circles | |
| "In the midst of the Southern regions..." | |
| There a man rests and weeps | |
| This year, next year, | |
| Sometimes, | |
| Never, oh never | |
| If we think then that there is | |
| No joy | |
| But listen: | |
| On the edge of winds | |
| Is the rustling of the greens | |
| All many greens, manifold and lovely | |
| The sighing and crying of the wind | |
| The lovely boughs | |
| The lovely light | |
| The lovely light | |
| The lovely starts, jewelly nobles | |
| The pitted starheads of a burning fire | |
| Burn far brighter burn brighter - | |
| Starry glory golder flamey and lambent - | |
| Than any other fires we know | |
| The moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight | |
| The plumd bird, lovely voiced | |
| Thestreakd cat, rooted hairshine | |
| Head of furlight | |
| Purr of bright sound | |
| Lovely and noble, jewelly lords | |
| So sparkling, glimmering spitting lights | |
| Little houses of fire | |
| In little towns of fire | |
| Open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes |
| zuo ci : Tibet | |
| Circles within circles | |
| We ride through them all | |
| Circles within circles | |
| " In the midst of the Southern regions..." | |
| There a man rests and weeps | |
| This year, next year, | |
| Sometimes, | |
| Never, oh never | |
| If we think then that there is | |
| No joy | |
| But listen: | |
| On the edge of winds | |
| Is the rustling of the greens | |
| All many greens, manifold and lovely | |
| The sighing and crying of the wind | |
| The lovely boughs | |
| The lovely light | |
| The lovely light | |
| The lovely starts, jewelly nobles | |
| The pitted starheads of a burning fire | |
| Burn far brighter burn brighter | |
| Starry glory golder flamey and lambent | |
| Than any other fires we know | |
| The moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight | |
| The plumd bird, lovely voiced | |
| Thestreakd cat, rooted hairshine | |
| Head of furlight | |
| Purr of bright sound | |
| Lovely and noble, jewelly lords | |
| So sparkling, glimmering spitting lights | |
| Little houses of fire | |
| In little towns of fire | |
| Open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes |
| zuò cí : Tibet | |
| Circles within circles | |
| We ride through them all | |
| Circles within circles | |
| " In the midst of the Southern regions..." | |
| There a man rests and weeps | |
| This year, next year, | |
| Sometimes, | |
| Never, oh never | |
| If we think then that there is | |
| No joy | |
| But listen: | |
| On the edge of winds | |
| Is the rustling of the greens | |
| All many greens, manifold and lovely | |
| The sighing and crying of the wind | |
| The lovely boughs | |
| The lovely light | |
| The lovely light | |
| The lovely starts, jewelly nobles | |
| The pitted starheads of a burning fire | |
| Burn far brighter burn brighter | |
| Starry glory golder flamey and lambent | |
| Than any other fires we know | |
| The moony wetmouthed cradle of bluenight | |
| The plumd bird, lovely voiced | |
| Thestreakd cat, rooted hairshine | |
| Head of furlight | |
| Purr of bright sound | |
| Lovely and noble, jewelly lords | |
| So sparkling, glimmering spitting lights | |
| Little houses of fire | |
| In little towns of fire | |
| Open and shut their fiery sandsheet eyes |