| Song | Moonlight, You Will Say |
| Artist | Current 93 |
| Album | Of Ruine Or Some Blazing Starre |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Tibet | |
| I remember walking in the fields around York | |
| Miserere | |
| Oh miserere | |
| I remember sitting in a small room in London | |
| Miserere | |
| And I remember thinking | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| I was sad | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| This was the stage of building brokengods | |
| Oh miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| This was the stage of reading the blackbooks | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Amd possibly I rented my soul | |
| Possibly | |
| Oh, but anyway | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Loss | |
| Loss | |
| And if so I ask for pardon | |
| And if not | |
| I ask for pardon, anyway | |
| I have seen this world as a great howl of pain | |
| I have seen this world as a great ocean of blood | |
| I have seen this world as the acme of suffering | |
| I have seen this world as the great disappointment | |
| I have seen this world as the great zero gape | |
| In which all our hopes flicker out | |
| Goodbye they say as they go | |
| Goodbye they cry loss flies | |
| Moonlight, you will say | |
| "And what does it matter whether God | |
| speaks to us from amongst the thorns | |
| or the flowers?" | |
| -- St. Francois de Sales, 1607 | |
| But still and still He shrieks to me | |
| "Miserere miserere miserere miserere miserere" | |
| Oh, wretched | |
| Oh miserere | |
| Moonlight, you will say | |
| Moonlight, you will say |
| zuo ci : Tibet | |
| I remember walking in the fields around York | |
| Miserere | |
| Oh miserere | |
| I remember sitting in a small room in London | |
| Miserere | |
| And I remember thinking | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| I was sad | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| This was the stage of building brokengods | |
| Oh miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| This was the stage of reading the blackbooks | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Amd possibly I rented my soul | |
| Possibly | |
| Oh, but anyway | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Loss | |
| Loss | |
| And if so I ask for pardon | |
| And if not | |
| I ask for pardon, anyway | |
| I have seen this world as a great howl of pain | |
| I have seen this world as a great ocean of blood | |
| I have seen this world as the acme of suffering | |
| I have seen this world as the great disappointment | |
| I have seen this world as the great zero gape | |
| In which all our hopes flicker out | |
| Goodbye they say as they go | |
| Goodbye they cry loss flies | |
| Moonlight, you will say | |
| " And what does it matter whether God | |
| speaks to us from amongst the thorns | |
| or the flowers?" | |
| St. Francois de Sales, 1607 | |
| But still and still He shrieks to me | |
| " Miserere miserere miserere miserere miserere" | |
| Oh, wretched | |
| Oh miserere | |
| Moonlight, you will say | |
| Moonlight, you will say |
| zuò cí : Tibet | |
| I remember walking in the fields around York | |
| Miserere | |
| Oh miserere | |
| I remember sitting in a small room in London | |
| Miserere | |
| And I remember thinking | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| I was sad | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| This was the stage of building brokengods | |
| Oh miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| This was the stage of reading the blackbooks | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Amd possibly I rented my soul | |
| Possibly | |
| Oh, but anyway | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Miserere | |
| Loss | |
| Loss | |
| And if so I ask for pardon | |
| And if not | |
| I ask for pardon, anyway | |
| I have seen this world as a great howl of pain | |
| I have seen this world as a great ocean of blood | |
| I have seen this world as the acme of suffering | |
| I have seen this world as the great disappointment | |
| I have seen this world as the great zero gape | |
| In which all our hopes flicker out | |
| Goodbye they say as they go | |
| Goodbye they cry loss flies | |
| Moonlight, you will say | |
| " And what does it matter whether God | |
| speaks to us from amongst the thorns | |
| or the flowers?" | |
| St. Francois de Sales, 1607 | |
| But still and still He shrieks to me | |
| " Miserere miserere miserere miserere miserere" | |
| Oh, wretched | |
| Oh miserere | |
| Moonlight, you will say | |
| Moonlight, you will say |