Song | We're All as We Lie |
Artist | Anthony Phillips |
Album | Wise After the Event |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Phillips | |
August saw a contest fit for Kings | |
From far and wide they came to trade their swings | |
Little grubs with stone-age clubs | |
And tanners' sons with foxes gloves | |
They came to face the stiffest course since Tring | |
Harold took an eight-iron at the first | |
Hoped the hedge whilst Tostig chipped and cursed | |
Sliced into a sticky patch and, playing out, | |
He'd met his match | |
When lettuce leaves had made the crowd disperse. | |
So, we're all as we lie | |
We're all as we're lying. | |
No, don't tell me it's time, | |
It's all in the timing. | |
Getting wiser, so much wiser, introspected ostraciser, | |
Drinking up with no holes barred to play. | |
Daphne lay beside the Silent Pool, | |
When suddenly the air began to cool | |
Otto heard it, running back, | |
And tried to stop the thudding crack | |
As Luther strode up, crying "Winter Rules". | |
"Holy Mackerel", cried the Papal Prince, | |
"You're out of bounds I'm really quite convinced". | |
Luther drew his driver but the Pope pulled out a fiver | |
And they halved the hole on points of sacraments | |
So, we're all as we lie | |
We're all as we're lying. | |
No, don't tell me it's time, | |
It's all in the timing. | |
Getting wiser, so much wiser, Seven Sisters sympathiser | |
Drinking up with no holes left to play. | |
The hour of confrontation now was nigh | |
As Plato and Justinian were tied, | |
Locked in mortal combat firing vulture after wombat | |
Their supremacy now could not be denied. | |
The Seventeenth lay waiting for the pair | |
As both advanced with silent, ashen stares | |
But there they stood, incredulous, | |
The distance reading "Nebulous" | |
And "Best of luck, Buzz Aldrin beat you there". | |
So, we're all as we lie | |
We're all as we're lying. | |
No, don't tell me it's time, | |
It's all in the timing. | |
So, we're all as we lie | |
We're all as we're lying. | |
No, don't tell me it's time, | |
Or else I'll be crying. |
zuo ci : Phillips | |
August saw a contest fit for Kings | |
From far and wide they came to trade their swings | |
Little grubs with stoneage clubs | |
And tanners' sons with foxes gloves | |
They came to face the stiffest course since Tring | |
Harold took an eightiron at the first | |
Hoped the hedge whilst Tostig chipped and cursed | |
Sliced into a sticky patch and, playing out, | |
He' d met his match | |
When lettuce leaves had made the crowd disperse. | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
It' s all in the timing. | |
Getting wiser, so much wiser, introspected ostraciser, | |
Drinking up with no holes barred to play. | |
Daphne lay beside the Silent Pool, | |
When suddenly the air began to cool | |
Otto heard it, running back, | |
And tried to stop the thudding crack | |
As Luther strode up, crying " Winter Rules". | |
" Holy Mackerel", cried the Papal Prince, | |
" You' re out of bounds I' m really quite convinced". | |
Luther drew his driver but the Pope pulled out a fiver | |
And they halved the hole on points of sacraments | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
It' s all in the timing. | |
Getting wiser, so much wiser, Seven Sisters sympathiser | |
Drinking up with no holes left to play. | |
The hour of confrontation now was nigh | |
As Plato and Justinian were tied, | |
Locked in mortal combat firing vulture after wombat | |
Their supremacy now could not be denied. | |
The Seventeenth lay waiting for the pair | |
As both advanced with silent, ashen stares | |
But there they stood, incredulous, | |
The distance reading " Nebulous" | |
And " Best of luck, Buzz Aldrin beat you there". | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
It' s all in the timing. | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
Or else I' ll be crying. |
zuò cí : Phillips | |
August saw a contest fit for Kings | |
From far and wide they came to trade their swings | |
Little grubs with stoneage clubs | |
And tanners' sons with foxes gloves | |
They came to face the stiffest course since Tring | |
Harold took an eightiron at the first | |
Hoped the hedge whilst Tostig chipped and cursed | |
Sliced into a sticky patch and, playing out, | |
He' d met his match | |
When lettuce leaves had made the crowd disperse. | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
It' s all in the timing. | |
Getting wiser, so much wiser, introspected ostraciser, | |
Drinking up with no holes barred to play. | |
Daphne lay beside the Silent Pool, | |
When suddenly the air began to cool | |
Otto heard it, running back, | |
And tried to stop the thudding crack | |
As Luther strode up, crying " Winter Rules". | |
" Holy Mackerel", cried the Papal Prince, | |
" You' re out of bounds I' m really quite convinced". | |
Luther drew his driver but the Pope pulled out a fiver | |
And they halved the hole on points of sacraments | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
It' s all in the timing. | |
Getting wiser, so much wiser, Seven Sisters sympathiser | |
Drinking up with no holes left to play. | |
The hour of confrontation now was nigh | |
As Plato and Justinian were tied, | |
Locked in mortal combat firing vulture after wombat | |
Their supremacy now could not be denied. | |
The Seventeenth lay waiting for the pair | |
As both advanced with silent, ashen stares | |
But there they stood, incredulous, | |
The distance reading " Nebulous" | |
And " Best of luck, Buzz Aldrin beat you there". | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
It' s all in the timing. | |
So, we' re all as we lie | |
We' re all as we' re lying. | |
No, don' t tell me it' s time, | |
Or else I' ll be crying. |