歌曲 | Quinella Holiday |
歌手 | Midnight Oil |
专辑 | Place Without a Postcard |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Garrett, Moginie | |
The bar was crowded in the arvo din | |
And the voices got higher and higher | |
For the man at the back with the tickets in his hat | |
He would have to do more than aspire to | |
A place with some light on the sand near a beach | |
A place near some green running water | |
Place on the hill with a view of the sea | |
And the cooking was done by his daughter | |
If the quinella comes in today | |
The day is late and the race is run | |
A full weeks wages and the lots been done | |
'cos the meeting is over and the crowd has thinned | |
In the game of chance the dice has rolled it's spin | |
Another long week, lady luck makes it plain | |
His dreams and his hopes are dashed in vain | |
In the final shout as they call his name | |
His tickets lie like scattered leaves out on that asphalt plain | |
Looking around for the moment that's right | |
Lottery life well the numbers are tight | |
As they try one more pull on the handle too late | |
He thinks of what could be it sticks in his throat | |
If the quinella... | |
(garrett/moginie) |
zuo ci : Garrett, Moginie | |
The bar was crowded in the arvo din | |
And the voices got higher and higher | |
For the man at the back with the tickets in his hat | |
He would have to do more than aspire to | |
A place with some light on the sand near a beach | |
A place near some green running water | |
Place on the hill with a view of the sea | |
And the cooking was done by his daughter | |
If the quinella comes in today | |
The day is late and the race is run | |
A full weeks wages and the lots been done | |
' cos the meeting is over and the crowd has thinned | |
In the game of chance the dice has rolled it' s spin | |
Another long week, lady luck makes it plain | |
His dreams and his hopes are dashed in vain | |
In the final shout as they call his name | |
His tickets lie like scattered leaves out on that asphalt plain | |
Looking around for the moment that' s right | |
Lottery life well the numbers are tight | |
As they try one more pull on the handle too late | |
He thinks of what could be it sticks in his throat | |
If the quinella... | |
garrett moginie |
zuò cí : Garrett, Moginie | |
The bar was crowded in the arvo din | |
And the voices got higher and higher | |
For the man at the back with the tickets in his hat | |
He would have to do more than aspire to | |
A place with some light on the sand near a beach | |
A place near some green running water | |
Place on the hill with a view of the sea | |
And the cooking was done by his daughter | |
If the quinella comes in today | |
The day is late and the race is run | |
A full weeks wages and the lots been done | |
' cos the meeting is over and the crowd has thinned | |
In the game of chance the dice has rolled it' s spin | |
Another long week, lady luck makes it plain | |
His dreams and his hopes are dashed in vain | |
In the final shout as they call his name | |
His tickets lie like scattered leaves out on that asphalt plain | |
Looking around for the moment that' s right | |
Lottery life well the numbers are tight | |
As they try one more pull on the handle too late | |
He thinks of what could be it sticks in his throat | |
If the quinella... | |
garrett moginie |