Song | Burn My Body |
Artist | William Elliott Whitmore |
Album | Hymns for the Hopeless |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Whitmore | |
Burn my body in the nothern field | |
and let the wind blow the ashes around | |
Then you will know that my wounds have been healed | |
'cause Lord I'll be homeward bound | |
Let the flames warm your hands | |
let the glow light your way | |
These gifts to you I bestow | |
No one's listening don't bother to pray | |
if you do I'll never know | |
Up and up the smoke will roll | |
like a cloud of frightened crows | |
carry my not so immortal soul | |
up between the rows | |
Some words that are said can cut like a saw | |
and my ears nearly bled at the sound | |
I can't help prepare for the springtime thaw | |
'cause Lord I'll be homeward bound | |
When frost turns to flowers and they all start to bloom | |
and there's nothing left to hold | |
tip one back and sing me a tune | |
and never let the fire grow cold |
zuo ci : Whitmore | |
Burn my body in the nothern field | |
and let the wind blow the ashes around | |
Then you will know that my wounds have been healed | |
' cause Lord I' ll be homeward bound | |
Let the flames warm your hands | |
let the glow light your way | |
These gifts to you I bestow | |
No one' s listening don' t bother to pray | |
if you do I' ll never know | |
Up and up the smoke will roll | |
like a cloud of frightened crows | |
carry my not so immortal soul | |
up between the rows | |
Some words that are said can cut like a saw | |
and my ears nearly bled at the sound | |
I can' t help prepare for the springtime thaw | |
' cause Lord I' ll be homeward bound | |
When frost turns to flowers and they all start to bloom | |
and there' s nothing left to hold | |
tip one back and sing me a tune | |
and never let the fire grow cold |
zuò cí : Whitmore | |
Burn my body in the nothern field | |
and let the wind blow the ashes around | |
Then you will know that my wounds have been healed | |
' cause Lord I' ll be homeward bound | |
Let the flames warm your hands | |
let the glow light your way | |
These gifts to you I bestow | |
No one' s listening don' t bother to pray | |
if you do I' ll never know | |
Up and up the smoke will roll | |
like a cloud of frightened crows | |
carry my not so immortal soul | |
up between the rows | |
Some words that are said can cut like a saw | |
and my ears nearly bled at the sound | |
I can' t help prepare for the springtime thaw | |
' cause Lord I' ll be homeward bound | |
When frost turns to flowers and they all start to bloom | |
and there' s nothing left to hold | |
tip one back and sing me a tune | |
and never let the fire grow cold |