Song | Linden Arden Stole the Highlights |
Artist | Van Morrison |
Album | Veedon Fleece |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Morrison | |
Linden Arden stole the highlights -- | |
With one hand tied behind his back -- | |
Loved the morning sun, and whiskey | |
Ran like water in his veins | |
Loved to go to church on Sunday | |
Even though he was a drinking man | |
When the boys came to San Francisco | |
They were looking for his life | |
But he found out where they were drinking | |
Met them face to face outside | |
Cleaved their heads off with a hatchet | |
Lord, he was a drinkin' man | |
And when someone tried to get above him | |
He just took the law into his own hands | |
Linden Arden stole the highlights | |
And they put his fingers through the glass | |
He had heard all those stories many, many times before | |
And he did not know nor care to ask | |
And he loved the little children like they were his very own | |
You say, 'Someday it may get lonely.' | |
Now he's livin', livin' with a gun |
zuo ci : Morrison | |
Linden Arden stole the highlights | |
With one hand tied behind his back | |
Loved the morning sun, and whiskey | |
Ran like water in his veins | |
Loved to go to church on Sunday | |
Even though he was a drinking man | |
When the boys came to San Francisco | |
They were looking for his life | |
But he found out where they were drinking | |
Met them face to face outside | |
Cleaved their heads off with a hatchet | |
Lord, he was a drinkin' man | |
And when someone tried to get above him | |
He just took the law into his own hands | |
Linden Arden stole the highlights | |
And they put his fingers through the glass | |
He had heard all those stories many, many times before | |
And he did not know nor care to ask | |
And he loved the little children like they were his very own | |
You say, ' Someday it may get lonely.' | |
Now he' s livin', livin' with a gun |
zuò cí : Morrison | |
Linden Arden stole the highlights | |
With one hand tied behind his back | |
Loved the morning sun, and whiskey | |
Ran like water in his veins | |
Loved to go to church on Sunday | |
Even though he was a drinking man | |
When the boys came to San Francisco | |
They were looking for his life | |
But he found out where they were drinking | |
Met them face to face outside | |
Cleaved their heads off with a hatchet | |
Lord, he was a drinkin' man | |
And when someone tried to get above him | |
He just took the law into his own hands | |
Linden Arden stole the highlights | |
And they put his fingers through the glass | |
He had heard all those stories many, many times before | |
And he did not know nor care to ask | |
And he loved the little children like they were his very own | |
You say, ' Someday it may get lonely.' | |
Now he' s livin', livin' with a gun |