Emily Shore 1819-1839 歌词

	作词 : Sparks, Sparks
	She'd been coughing up blood
	Since the dogwoods bloomed
	Seventeen that spring
	And confined to her room

	At night her heart
	Pounded holes in her chest
	Death, like a bird
	Was building its nest

	She'd laughed at the graveyard
	On one sip of wine
	And kept a pet duck
	Till the cat crushed its spine

	But, waltzing one night
	In a red velvet dress
	She noticed a whistling down
	In her chest

	Propped up on pillows
	She watched the snow fall
	Trying to picture
	An end to it all

	By spring there'd be picnics
	And merry-go-rounds
	But she'd be nothing
	But bones in the ground

	And so
	On the last day of her short life
	Emily called for her father's
	Penknife

	She sawed at her head
	Till the floor pooled with hair
	And braided a watch chain for father
	(Mother)
	To wear

	zuo ci : Sparks, Sparks
	She' d been coughing up blood
	Since the dogwoods bloomed
	Seventeen that spring
	And confined to her room

	At night her heart
	Pounded holes in her chest
	Death, like a bird
	Was building its nest

	She' d laughed at the graveyard
	On one sip of wine
	And kept a pet duck
	Till the cat crushed its spine

	But, waltzing one night
	In a red velvet dress
	She noticed a whistling down
	In her chest

	Propped up on pillows
	She watched the snow fall
	Trying to picture
	An end to it all

	By spring there' d be picnics
	And merrygorounds
	But she' d be nothing
	But bones in the ground

	And so
	On the last day of her short life
	Emily called for her father' s
	Penknife

	She sawed at her head
	Till the floor pooled with hair
	And braided a watch chain for father
	Mother
	To wear

	zuò cí : Sparks, Sparks
	She' d been coughing up blood
	Since the dogwoods bloomed
	Seventeen that spring
	And confined to her room

	At night her heart
	Pounded holes in her chest
	Death, like a bird
	Was building its nest

	She' d laughed at the graveyard
	On one sip of wine
	And kept a pet duck
	Till the cat crushed its spine

	But, waltzing one night
	In a red velvet dress
	She noticed a whistling down
	In her chest

	Propped up on pillows
	She watched the snow fall
	Trying to picture
	An end to it all

	By spring there' d be picnics
	And merrygorounds
	But she' d be nothing
	But bones in the ground

	And so
	On the last day of her short life
	Emily called for her father' s
	Penknife

	She sawed at her head
	Till the floor pooled with hair
	And braided a watch chain for father
	Mother
	To wear

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