Song | Snow Borne Sorrow |
Artist | Nine Horses |
Album | Snow Borne Sorrow |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Jansen, Sylvian | |
Strip the branches | |
Unsheathe the hatchets | |
The threads of friendship | |
Are coming off | |
The teeth of lawyers | |
Man the trenches | |
Bands of betrothal | |
Are coming off | |
But if we're good | |
If we're kind | |
But if we're good | |
Generous and kind | |
We'll inhabit their sunsets | |
Their goddesses and queens | |
We'll try to do the right thing | |
(Oh save them) | |
Oh save them | |
(Oh save them) | |
(Oh save them) | |
Oh save them | |
(Oh save them) | |
Let the children come to me | |
It's a harrowing world | |
Of adults and girls | |
Lashing out at the hurt | |
That surrounds them | |
With the knives drawn apart | |
They shatter the heart | |
Of anyone that dares come between them | |
Let the children come to me | |
Once a playground of swings | |
Then the malice set in | |
And reduced all the colours to winter | |
So we made it our own | |
This snow borne sorrow | |
And this love that stutters and splinters | |
Let the children come to me | |
Her apostles have gone | |
They left one by one | |
With no forwarding address to trace them | |
It's a secular world | |
Of adults and girls | |
And we ask because nothing is certain | |
Let the children come to me | |
When their feet touch the ground | |
Naked unbound | |
I want them to know they can trust me | |
There's so much to be ungrateful for | |
Let the children come to me |
zuo qu : Jansen, Sylvian | |
Strip the branches | |
Unsheathe the hatchets | |
The threads of friendship | |
Are coming off | |
The teeth of lawyers | |
Man the trenches | |
Bands of betrothal | |
Are coming off | |
But if we' re good | |
If we' re kind | |
But if we' re good | |
Generous and kind | |
We' ll inhabit their sunsets | |
Their goddesses and queens | |
We' ll try to do the right thing | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Let the children come to me | |
It' s a harrowing world | |
Of adults and girls | |
Lashing out at the hurt | |
That surrounds them | |
With the knives drawn apart | |
They shatter the heart | |
Of anyone that dares come between them | |
Let the children come to me | |
Once a playground of swings | |
Then the malice set in | |
And reduced all the colours to winter | |
So we made it our own | |
This snow borne sorrow | |
And this love that stutters and splinters | |
Let the children come to me | |
Her apostles have gone | |
They left one by one | |
With no forwarding address to trace them | |
It' s a secular world | |
Of adults and girls | |
And we ask because nothing is certain | |
Let the children come to me | |
When their feet touch the ground | |
Naked unbound | |
I want them to know they can trust me | |
There' s so much to be ungrateful for | |
Let the children come to me |
zuò qǔ : Jansen, Sylvian | |
Strip the branches | |
Unsheathe the hatchets | |
The threads of friendship | |
Are coming off | |
The teeth of lawyers | |
Man the trenches | |
Bands of betrothal | |
Are coming off | |
But if we' re good | |
If we' re kind | |
But if we' re good | |
Generous and kind | |
We' ll inhabit their sunsets | |
Their goddesses and queens | |
We' ll try to do the right thing | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Oh save them | |
Let the children come to me | |
It' s a harrowing world | |
Of adults and girls | |
Lashing out at the hurt | |
That surrounds them | |
With the knives drawn apart | |
They shatter the heart | |
Of anyone that dares come between them | |
Let the children come to me | |
Once a playground of swings | |
Then the malice set in | |
And reduced all the colours to winter | |
So we made it our own | |
This snow borne sorrow | |
And this love that stutters and splinters | |
Let the children come to me | |
Her apostles have gone | |
They left one by one | |
With no forwarding address to trace them | |
It' s a secular world | |
Of adults and girls | |
And we ask because nothing is certain | |
Let the children come to me | |
When their feet touch the ground | |
Naked unbound | |
I want them to know they can trust me | |
There' s so much to be ungrateful for | |
Let the children come to me |