Morning Colors 歌词

	作词 : Perhacs
	Fog is catching in cold round drops
	And from the rail of his terrace
	Dripping
	Some to fall, and some to blink
	In colors of neon from the signs
	All along his street
	His stairs are wood, and old
	And they creak
	They complain when I come
	And they talk when I go
	But I'm quiet if I try
	And I don't stay too long
	And I go before the morning
	And the dripping of the fog
	Is gone
	Sometimes I wonder
	Should I wake him to see
	All those bright bubble drops
	In the still slickened streets
	Sometimes I wonder
	Has he ever really seen them?
	Sometimes I wonder
	Has he ever really seen me
	It's so warm and still
	Fresh coffee and oranges
	Soon almond cakes
	He'll sleep till they're done
	There hasn't been a sound
	Out from under those signs
	Haven't heard a single footstep
	That is rushing to be on time
	Colors that are dripping
	Help to make up for his silence
	I think of you in green
	I remember he once told me
	But when I go
	As I always must do
	The color in his day will be
	Clear...and...blue

	zuo ci : Perhacs
	Fog is catching in cold round drops
	And from the rail of his terrace
	Dripping
	Some to fall, and some to blink
	In colors of neon from the signs
	All along his street
	His stairs are wood, and old
	And they creak
	They complain when I come
	And they talk when I go
	But I' m quiet if I try
	And I don' t stay too long
	And I go before the morning
	And the dripping of the fog
	Is gone
	Sometimes I wonder
	Should I wake him to see
	All those bright bubble drops
	In the still slickened streets
	Sometimes I wonder
	Has he ever really seen them?
	Sometimes I wonder
	Has he ever really seen me
	It' s so warm and still
	Fresh coffee and oranges
	Soon almond cakes
	He' ll sleep till they' re done
	There hasn' t been a sound
	Out from under those signs
	Haven' t heard a single footstep
	That is rushing to be on time
	Colors that are dripping
	Help to make up for his silence
	I think of you in green
	I remember he once told me
	But when I go
	As I always must do
	The color in his day will be
	Clear... and... blue

	zuò cí : Perhacs
	Fog is catching in cold round drops
	And from the rail of his terrace
	Dripping
	Some to fall, and some to blink
	In colors of neon from the signs
	All along his street
	His stairs are wood, and old
	And they creak
	They complain when I come
	And they talk when I go
	But I' m quiet if I try
	And I don' t stay too long
	And I go before the morning
	And the dripping of the fog
	Is gone
	Sometimes I wonder
	Should I wake him to see
	All those bright bubble drops
	In the still slickened streets
	Sometimes I wonder
	Has he ever really seen them?
	Sometimes I wonder
	Has he ever really seen me
	It' s so warm and still
	Fresh coffee and oranges
	Soon almond cakes
	He' ll sleep till they' re done
	There hasn' t been a sound
	Out from under those signs
	Haven' t heard a single footstep
	That is rushing to be on time
	Colors that are dripping
	Help to make up for his silence
	I think of you in green
	I remember he once told me
	But when I go
	As I always must do
	The color in his day will be
	Clear... and... blue

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