Old Crow Lyrics
| Song | Old Crow |
| Artist | Thomas & The Empty Orchestra |
| Album | Old Crow |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Thomas Bower | |
| Old crow in the sycamore, your time's unwinding. | |
| I don't know you anymore, the moonlight's blinding. | |
| The snow kept us indoors, my leg still hurts in the winter, | |
| I adored the style of the time, but I ignored it after the season. | |
| Skin crawls and my eyes twitch, tongue swollen and my lungs black, | |
| I hope we find a decision, before we're all burned in the friction. | |
| I've seen three score and one years, and I hope that I'll see the same again. | |
| I believe the world is in descent, but I no longer feel the same urge to leave it. | |
| Hope's still calling you. | |
| I wrote a letter in blue ink, and I've written it over and over again. | |
| I hope that you never read it when I can't explain the way that I'm feeling. | |
| Old crow in the sycamore, your time's unwinding. | |
| I hope that it's not the end for us, but I can't keep myself creeping and hiding. |
| zuo ci : Thomas Bower | |
| Old crow in the sycamore, your time' s unwinding. | |
| I don' t know you anymore, the moonlight' s blinding. | |
| The snow kept us indoors, my leg still hurts in the winter, | |
| I adored the style of the time, but I ignored it after the season. | |
| Skin crawls and my eyes twitch, tongue swollen and my lungs black, | |
| I hope we find a decision, before we' re all burned in the friction. | |
| I' ve seen three score and one years, and I hope that I' ll see the same again. | |
| I believe the world is in descent, but I no longer feel the same urge to leave it. | |
| Hope' s still calling you. | |
| I wrote a letter in blue ink, and I' ve written it over and over again. | |
| I hope that you never read it when I can' t explain the way that I' m feeling. | |
| Old crow in the sycamore, your time' s unwinding. | |
| I hope that it' s not the end for us, but I can' t keep myself creeping and hiding. |
| zuò cí : Thomas Bower | |
| Old crow in the sycamore, your time' s unwinding. | |
| I don' t know you anymore, the moonlight' s blinding. | |
| The snow kept us indoors, my leg still hurts in the winter, | |
| I adored the style of the time, but I ignored it after the season. | |
| Skin crawls and my eyes twitch, tongue swollen and my lungs black, | |
| I hope we find a decision, before we' re all burned in the friction. | |
| I' ve seen three score and one years, and I hope that I' ll see the same again. | |
| I believe the world is in descent, but I no longer feel the same urge to leave it. | |
| Hope' s still calling you. | |
| I wrote a letter in blue ink, and I' ve written it over and over again. | |
| I hope that you never read it when I can' t explain the way that I' m feeling. | |
| Old crow in the sycamore, your time' s unwinding. | |
| I hope that it' s not the end for us, but I can' t keep myself creeping and hiding. |
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