| Song | Snow Borne Sorrow |
| Artist | Nine Horses |
| Album | Snow Borne Sorrow |
| 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 |
| 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 |