| Song | November Spawned A Monster (Live) |
| Artist | Morrissey |
| Album | Beethoven Was Deaf |
| 作词 : Langer, Morrissey | |
| sleep on and dream of love | |
| because it\'s the closest you will | |
| get to love | |
| poor twisted child | |
| so ugly, so ugly | |
| poor twisted child | |
| oh hug me, oh hug me | |
| one november | |
| spawned a monster | |
| in the shape of this child | |
| who later cried : | |
| \"but jesus made me, so | |
| jesus save me from | |
| pity, sympathy | |
| and people discussing me\" | |
| a frame of useless limbs | |
| what can make good | |
| all the bad that\'s been done ? | |
| and if the lights were out | |
| could you even bear | |
| to kiss her full on the mouth | |
| (or anywhere?) | |
| oh, poor twisted child | |
| so ugly, so ugly | |
| poor twisted child | |
| oh hug me, oh hug me | |
| one november | |
| spawned a monster | |
| in the shape of this child | |
| who must remain | |
| a hostage to kindness | |
| and the wheels underneath her | |
| a hostage to kindness | |
| and the wheels underneath her | |
| a symbol of where mad, mad lovers | |
| must pause and draw the line. | |
| so sleep and dream of love | |
| because it\'s the closest | |
| you will get to love | |
| that november | |
| is a time | |
| which i must | |
| put out of my mind | |
| oh, one fine day | |
| let it be soon | |
| she won\'t be rich or beautiful | |
| but she\'ll be walking your streets | |
| in the clothes that she went out | |
| and chose for herself. |
| zuò cí : Langer, Morrissey | |
| sleep on and dream of love | |
| because it' s the closest you will | |
| get to love | |
| poor twisted child | |
| so ugly, so ugly | |
| poor twisted child | |
| oh hug me, oh hug me | |
| one november | |
| spawned a monster | |
| in the shape of this child | |
| who later cried : | |
| " but jesus made me, so | |
| jesus save me from | |
| pity, sympathy | |
| and people discussing me" | |
| a frame of useless limbs | |
| what can make good | |
| all the bad that' s been done ? | |
| and if the lights were out | |
| could you even bear | |
| to kiss her full on the mouth | |
| or anywhere? | |
| oh, poor twisted child | |
| so ugly, so ugly | |
| poor twisted child | |
| oh hug me, oh hug me | |
| one november | |
| spawned a monster | |
| in the shape of this child | |
| who must remain | |
| a hostage to kindness | |
| and the wheels underneath her | |
| a hostage to kindness | |
| and the wheels underneath her | |
| a symbol of where mad, mad lovers | |
| must pause and draw the line. | |
| so sleep and dream of love | |
| because it' s the closest | |
| you will get to love | |
| that november | |
| is a time | |
| which i must | |
| put out of my mind | |
| oh, one fine day | |
| let it be soon | |
| she won' t be rich or beautiful | |
| but she' ll be walking your streets | |
| in the clothes that she went out | |
| and chose for herself. |