Song | Labelled With Love |
Artist | Squeeze |
Album | Spot The Difference |
作曲 : Chris Difford/Glenn Tilbrook | |
(difford/tilbrook) | |
She unscrews the top of a new whiskey bottle | |
And shuffles about in her candle lit hovel, | |
Like some kind of witch with blue fingers in mittens | |
She smells like the cat and the neighbours she sickens, | |
The black and white t.v. has long seen a picture | |
The cross on the wall is a permanent fixture, | |
The postman delivers the final reminders | |
She sells off her silver and poodles in china. | |
Drinks to remember, i me and myself | |
And winds up the clock | |
And knocks dust from the shelf | |
Home is a love that i miss very much | |
So the past has been bottled and labelled with love. | |
During the war time an american pilot | |
Made every air raid a time of excitement, | |
She moved to his prairie and married the texan | |
She learnt from a distance how love was a lesson, | |
He became drinker and she became mother | |
She knew that one day she'd be one or the other, | |
He ate himself older, drunk himself dizzy | |
Proud of her features, she kept herself pretty. | |
He like a cowboy died drunk in his slumber | |
Out on the porch in the middle of summer, | |
She crossed the ocean back home to her family | |
But they had retired to roads that were sandy, | |
She moved home alone without friends or relations | |
Lived in a world full of age reservation, | |
On moth eaten armchairs she'd say that she'd sod all | |
The friends who had left her to drink from the bottle. |
zuò qǔ : Chris Difford Glenn Tilbrook | |
difford tilbrook | |
She unscrews the top of a new whiskey bottle | |
And shuffles about in her candle lit hovel, | |
Like some kind of witch with blue fingers in mittens | |
She smells like the cat and the neighbours she sickens, | |
The black and white t. v. has long seen a picture | |
The cross on the wall is a permanent fixture, | |
The postman delivers the final reminders | |
She sells off her silver and poodles in china. | |
Drinks to remember, i me and myself | |
And winds up the clock | |
And knocks dust from the shelf | |
Home is a love that i miss very much | |
So the past has been bottled and labelled with love. | |
During the war time an american pilot | |
Made every air raid a time of excitement, | |
She moved to his prairie and married the texan | |
She learnt from a distance how love was a lesson, | |
He became drinker and she became mother | |
She knew that one day she' d be one or the other, | |
He ate himself older, drunk himself dizzy | |
Proud of her features, she kept herself pretty. | |
He like a cowboy died drunk in his slumber | |
Out on the porch in the middle of summer, | |
She crossed the ocean back home to her family | |
But they had retired to roads that were sandy, | |
She moved home alone without friends or relations | |
Lived in a world full of age reservation, | |
On moth eaten armchairs she' d say that she' d sod all | |
The friends who had left her to drink from the bottle. |