Song | The House Always Wins |
Artist | The Clientele |
Album | The Violet Hour |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Clientele, MacLean | |
So wake up and smell the scent on your skin | |
The night breathes easily, the subway's wind | |
Carries me back | |
Brings me all the way back in | |
Here's a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You're too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I'll be coming 'round so soon | |
And I see the sad young friend has gone away | |
With his promises, his speeches and his poems | |
But the fields have drifted in to fill his space | |
Like ghosts, like ghosts | |
Here's a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You're too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I'll be coming 'round so soon | |
And I remember afternoons inside your mother's house | |
Us skipping school and getting high inside | |
But I can't even think about anymore | |
I can't fit my words inside | |
The afternoons were grey and overwhelming as they fell | |
To fused lamps and September's clarity | |
The way back home is lost to us forever in the night | |
And the leaves, the falling leaves | |
Here's a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You're too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I'll be coming 'round so soon |
zuo ci : Clientele, MacLean | |
So wake up and smell the scent on your skin | |
The night breathes easily, the subway' s wind | |
Carries me back | |
Brings me all the way back in | |
Here' s a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You' re too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I' ll be coming ' round so soon | |
And I see the sad young friend has gone away | |
With his promises, his speeches and his poems | |
But the fields have drifted in to fill his space | |
Like ghosts, like ghosts | |
Here' s a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You' re too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I' ll be coming ' round so soon | |
And I remember afternoons inside your mother' s house | |
Us skipping school and getting high inside | |
But I can' t even think about anymore | |
I can' t fit my words inside | |
The afternoons were grey and overwhelming as they fell | |
To fused lamps and September' s clarity | |
The way back home is lost to us forever in the night | |
And the leaves, the falling leaves | |
Here' s a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You' re too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I' ll be coming ' round so soon |
zuò cí : Clientele, MacLean | |
So wake up and smell the scent on your skin | |
The night breathes easily, the subway' s wind | |
Carries me back | |
Brings me all the way back in | |
Here' s a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You' re too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I' ll be coming ' round so soon | |
And I see the sad young friend has gone away | |
With his promises, his speeches and his poems | |
But the fields have drifted in to fill his space | |
Like ghosts, like ghosts | |
Here' s a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You' re too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I' ll be coming ' round so soon | |
And I remember afternoons inside your mother' s house | |
Us skipping school and getting high inside | |
But I can' t even think about anymore | |
I can' t fit my words inside | |
The afternoons were grey and overwhelming as they fell | |
To fused lamps and September' s clarity | |
The way back home is lost to us forever in the night | |
And the leaves, the falling leaves | |
Here' s a car that we can drive, come on, get in | |
Through the night that rolls in every room | |
You' re too beautiful to love these plastic things, my friend | |
Lord, I' ll be coming ' round so soon |