Song | The Street Organ |
Artist | And Also the Trees |
Album | Farewell to the Shade |
作曲 : Burrows, Havas, Jones | |
The street organ plays | |
Its blithe tune through the town | |
Winding down the alleys with the yellow leaves | |
It meanders down bleak avenues where | |
The copper-green monuments stare | |
At nothing... | |
It passes them by unheard | |
Waltzes with the ribbons of distant winter air | |
The messengers of snow | |
Moon-struck and gold | |
It croons withthe lullabies that lull | |
The babies back to wombs | |
Confuses time with its merry sombre chiming | |
Calling back the old | |
Conjures daughters, lovers, sons | |
Fears, mothers, seasons, minutes | |
Lost and found, lost love, spring and nothing | |
She sings like a bird that wakes up warm | |
And thinks the winter's over | |
The street organ's music is heard | |
For the first time here and the last time there | |
And not at all | |
Cathedral quiet and narcoric seas | |
In a mind of tide-mark memories | |
The strand of hair that falls in front of her face | |
He woke up and called out her name | |
But only the street organ answered | |
The street organ plays down every road | |
Moon-struck and gold |
zuò qǔ : Burrows, Havas, Jones | |
The street organ plays | |
Its blithe tune through the town | |
Winding down the alleys with the yellow leaves | |
It meanders down bleak avenues where | |
The coppergreen monuments stare | |
At nothing... | |
It passes them by unheard | |
Waltzes with the ribbons of distant winter air | |
The messengers of snow | |
Moonstruck and gold | |
It croons withthe lullabies that lull | |
The babies back to wombs | |
Confuses time with its merry sombre chiming | |
Calling back the old | |
Conjures daughters, lovers, sons | |
Fears, mothers, seasons, minutes | |
Lost and found, lost love, spring and nothing | |
She sings like a bird that wakes up warm | |
And thinks the winter' s over | |
The street organ' s music is heard | |
For the first time here and the last time there | |
And not at all | |
Cathedral quiet and narcoric seas | |
In a mind of tidemark memories | |
The strand of hair that falls in front of her face | |
He woke up and called out her name | |
But only the street organ answered | |
The street organ plays down every road | |
Moonstruck and gold |