Song | Bar-Code Trees |
Artist | Bart Davenport |
Album | Game Preserve |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Davenport | |
Spirits in the basement speak to the soccer moms | |
With an ancient good witch's code | |
There's a general store hey don't bust the screen door | |
What's your hurry for you're only ten years old | |
City boy on a train ride through the country | |
Where the rivers are as wide as his eyes | |
Side by side the chapel with the forbidden apple | |
And the weeping willow only sighs | |
Paint the yellows and the reds of autumn | |
Convey the stillness of bar-code trees | |
Or that Bonnie and Clyde car rusting in the shade | |
Where they swerved off the road so long ago | |
There's a green blanket that rolls over the hills | |
And valleys of this heart breaking land | |
She left Metropolis to make a home here | |
But one day she'll paint the desert sands | |
City boy... | |
Don't let it bug you that you're not behind the wheel | |
New England hugs you like a real grandfather | |
And you know you'll never stay here it's way too nice | |
Try and find a place where you belong | |
So all aboard the chew chew you know it behoves you | |
They say love is on the loose broke out of the caboose | |
All the way through New Haven with the yankee doodle dandies | |
Commuters headed further than the Amtrak goes | |
There are no tracks there I bet you can relax there | |
Beneath the swaying palms with the boom boxes on, Mmm-huh | |
Ooh La La... |
zuo qu : Davenport | |
Spirits in the basement speak to the soccer moms | |
With an ancient good witch' s code | |
There' s a general store hey don' t bust the screen door | |
What' s your hurry for you' re only ten years old | |
City boy on a train ride through the country | |
Where the rivers are as wide as his eyes | |
Side by side the chapel with the forbidden apple | |
And the weeping willow only sighs | |
Paint the yellows and the reds of autumn | |
Convey the stillness of barcode trees | |
Or that Bonnie and Clyde car rusting in the shade | |
Where they swerved off the road so long ago | |
There' s a green blanket that rolls over the hills | |
And valleys of this heart breaking land | |
She left Metropolis to make a home here | |
But one day she' ll paint the desert sands | |
City boy... | |
Don' t let it bug you that you' re not behind the wheel | |
New England hugs you like a real grandfather | |
And you know you' ll never stay here it' s way too nice | |
Try and find a place where you belong | |
So all aboard the chew chew you know it behoves you | |
They say love is on the loose broke out of the caboose | |
All the way through New Haven with the yankee doodle dandies | |
Commuters headed further than the Amtrak goes | |
There are no tracks there I bet you can relax there | |
Beneath the swaying palms with the boom boxes on, Mmmhuh | |
Ooh La La... |
zuò qǔ : Davenport | |
Spirits in the basement speak to the soccer moms | |
With an ancient good witch' s code | |
There' s a general store hey don' t bust the screen door | |
What' s your hurry for you' re only ten years old | |
City boy on a train ride through the country | |
Where the rivers are as wide as his eyes | |
Side by side the chapel with the forbidden apple | |
And the weeping willow only sighs | |
Paint the yellows and the reds of autumn | |
Convey the stillness of barcode trees | |
Or that Bonnie and Clyde car rusting in the shade | |
Where they swerved off the road so long ago | |
There' s a green blanket that rolls over the hills | |
And valleys of this heart breaking land | |
She left Metropolis to make a home here | |
But one day she' ll paint the desert sands | |
City boy... | |
Don' t let it bug you that you' re not behind the wheel | |
New England hugs you like a real grandfather | |
And you know you' ll never stay here it' s way too nice | |
Try and find a place where you belong | |
So all aboard the chew chew you know it behoves you | |
They say love is on the loose broke out of the caboose | |
All the way through New Haven with the yankee doodle dandies | |
Commuters headed further than the Amtrak goes | |
There are no tracks there I bet you can relax there | |
Beneath the swaying palms with the boom boxes on, Mmmhuh | |
Ooh La La... |