Song | Guitar And Pen |
Artist | The Who |
Album | Thirty Years Of Maximum R&B |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Pete Townshend | |
作词 : Townshend | |
You're alone above the street somewhere | |
Wondering how you'll ever count out there | |
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight | |
But inside you've got something to write | |
In your hand you hold your only friend | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
When you take up a pencil and sharpen it up | |
When you're kicking the fence and still nothing will budge | |
When the words are immobile until you sit down | |
Never feel they're worth keeping, they're not easily found | |
Then you know in some strange, unexplainable way | |
You must really have something | |
Jumping, thumping, fighting, hiding away | |
Important to say | |
When you sing through the verse and you end in a scream | |
And you swear and you curse 'cause the rhyming ain't clean | |
But it suddenly comes after years of delay | |
You pick up your guitar, you can suddenly play | |
When your fingers are bleeding and the knuckles are white | |
Then you can be sure, you can open the door | |
Get off of the floor tonight | |
You have something to write | |
When you want to complain, there's no one can stop you | |
But when your music proclaims, there's no one can top you | |
You are wearing you heart on your jumping feet | |
You've got a head start away from the street | |
But is that what you want, to be rich and be gone? | |
Could be there's just one thing left in the end | |
Your guitar and your pen | |
When you sing to your mum, and you hum and you croon | |
And she says that she'd like it 'with more of a tune' | |
And you smash your guitar at the end of the bed | |
Then you stick it together and start writing again | |
And you know that it won't be too long 'til your back | |
To bring her some money, she's calling you 'honey' | |
Stashed in a bloody great sack | |
In your Cadillac | |
You're alone | |
You're alone | |
You're alone above the street somewhere | |
Wondering how you'll ever count out there | |
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight | |
But inside you've got something to write | |
In your hand you hold your only friend | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen X8 | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen |
zuo qu : Pete Townshend | |
zuo ci : Townshend | |
You' re alone above the street somewhere | |
Wondering how you' ll ever count out there | |
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight | |
But inside you' ve got something to write | |
In your hand you hold your only friend | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
When you take up a pencil and sharpen it up | |
When you' re kicking the fence and still nothing will budge | |
When the words are immobile until you sit down | |
Never feel they' re worth keeping, they' re not easily found | |
Then you know in some strange, unexplainable way | |
You must really have something | |
Jumping, thumping, fighting, hiding away | |
Important to say | |
When you sing through the verse and you end in a scream | |
And you swear and you curse ' cause the rhyming ain' t clean | |
But it suddenly comes after years of delay | |
You pick up your guitar, you can suddenly play | |
When your fingers are bleeding and the knuckles are white | |
Then you can be sure, you can open the door | |
Get off of the floor tonight | |
You have something to write | |
When you want to complain, there' s no one can stop you | |
But when your music proclaims, there' s no one can top you | |
You are wearing you heart on your jumping feet | |
You' ve got a head start away from the street | |
But is that what you want, to be rich and be gone? | |
Could be there' s just one thing left in the end | |
Your guitar and your pen | |
When you sing to your mum, and you hum and you croon | |
And she says that she' d like it ' with more of a tune' | |
And you smash your guitar at the end of the bed | |
Then you stick it together and start writing again | |
And you know that it won' t be too long ' til your back | |
To bring her some money, she' s calling you ' honey' | |
Stashed in a bloody great sack | |
In your Cadillac | |
You' re alone | |
You' re alone | |
You' re alone above the street somewhere | |
Wondering how you' ll ever count out there | |
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight | |
But inside you' ve got something to write | |
In your hand you hold your only friend | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen X8 | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen |
zuò qǔ : Pete Townshend | |
zuò cí : Townshend | |
You' re alone above the street somewhere | |
Wondering how you' ll ever count out there | |
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight | |
But inside you' ve got something to write | |
In your hand you hold your only friend | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen | |
When you take up a pencil and sharpen it up | |
When you' re kicking the fence and still nothing will budge | |
When the words are immobile until you sit down | |
Never feel they' re worth keeping, they' re not easily found | |
Then you know in some strange, unexplainable way | |
You must really have something | |
Jumping, thumping, fighting, hiding away | |
Important to say | |
When you sing through the verse and you end in a scream | |
And you swear and you curse ' cause the rhyming ain' t clean | |
But it suddenly comes after years of delay | |
You pick up your guitar, you can suddenly play | |
When your fingers are bleeding and the knuckles are white | |
Then you can be sure, you can open the door | |
Get off of the floor tonight | |
You have something to write | |
When you want to complain, there' s no one can stop you | |
But when your music proclaims, there' s no one can top you | |
You are wearing you heart on your jumping feet | |
You' ve got a head start away from the street | |
But is that what you want, to be rich and be gone? | |
Could be there' s just one thing left in the end | |
Your guitar and your pen | |
When you sing to your mum, and you hum and you croon | |
And she says that she' d like it ' with more of a tune' | |
And you smash your guitar at the end of the bed | |
Then you stick it together and start writing again | |
And you know that it won' t be too long ' til your back | |
To bring her some money, she' s calling you ' honey' | |
Stashed in a bloody great sack | |
In your Cadillac | |
You' re alone | |
You' re alone | |
You' re alone above the street somewhere | |
Wondering how you' ll ever count out there | |
You can walk, you can talk, you can fight | |
But inside you' ve got something to write | |
In your hand you hold your only friend | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen | |
Your guitar or your pen X8 | |
Never spend your guitar or your pen |