Song | Does Me No Good |
Artist | William Elliott Whitmore |
Album | Hymns for the Hopeless |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Whitmore | |
Can I forgive my past transgressions | |
Can I forgive my own past sins | |
That's not likely | |
No I will never feel the same again | |
Well, it does me no good to say I'm sorry | |
Although I am, for what it's worth | |
But you can't hear me for you're resting | |
Six feet under the cold black dirt | |
Oh, them daisies they sure look pretty | |
Blooming there by your stone | |
They remind me that life continues | |
And I'll never be alone | |
I'd give my body, I'd give my soul | |
For one more chance to make amends | |
But that's not possible for my means | |
could not justify my end | |
It does me no good to sit and think of | |
All the things that I done wrong | |
It took me forever to remember | |
what I should have known all along | |
Well if you can hear my last confession | |
If you can hear my final plea | |
Oh, although I never showed it | |
Oh, you meant the world to me | |
It does me no good to recollect on | |
All that whiskey has done been spilt | |
And my boat ain't gonna float | |
all weighed down by them bricks of guilt |
zuo ci : Whitmore | |
Can I forgive my past transgressions | |
Can I forgive my own past sins | |
That' s not likely | |
No I will never feel the same again | |
Well, it does me no good to say I' m sorry | |
Although I am, for what it' s worth | |
But you can' t hear me for you' re resting | |
Six feet under the cold black dirt | |
Oh, them daisies they sure look pretty | |
Blooming there by your stone | |
They remind me that life continues | |
And I' ll never be alone | |
I' d give my body, I' d give my soul | |
For one more chance to make amends | |
But that' s not possible for my means | |
could not justify my end | |
It does me no good to sit and think of | |
All the things that I done wrong | |
It took me forever to remember | |
what I should have known all along | |
Well if you can hear my last confession | |
If you can hear my final plea | |
Oh, although I never showed it | |
Oh, you meant the world to me | |
It does me no good to recollect on | |
All that whiskey has done been spilt | |
And my boat ain' t gonna float | |
all weighed down by them bricks of guilt |
zuò cí : Whitmore | |
Can I forgive my past transgressions | |
Can I forgive my own past sins | |
That' s not likely | |
No I will never feel the same again | |
Well, it does me no good to say I' m sorry | |
Although I am, for what it' s worth | |
But you can' t hear me for you' re resting | |
Six feet under the cold black dirt | |
Oh, them daisies they sure look pretty | |
Blooming there by your stone | |
They remind me that life continues | |
And I' ll never be alone | |
I' d give my body, I' d give my soul | |
For one more chance to make amends | |
But that' s not possible for my means | |
could not justify my end | |
It does me no good to sit and think of | |
All the things that I done wrong | |
It took me forever to remember | |
what I should have known all along | |
Well if you can hear my last confession | |
If you can hear my final plea | |
Oh, although I never showed it | |
Oh, you meant the world to me | |
It does me no good to recollect on | |
All that whiskey has done been spilt | |
And my boat ain' t gonna float | |
all weighed down by them bricks of guilt |