The Making of a Soul 歌词

	作词 : Residents
	Chorus:
	Edweena went to calumet and left from there to college;
	She took along a porcupine whose name was known as knowledge;
	Now their relationship was fraught with pangs of loving hunger.
	The Porcupine could question all, but all she new was slumber.
	Porcupine:
	A huge easy cozy wants our kiss to triumph,
	But unbelievable admits --
	Some questions receive a guarantee to shake you up.
	How much marriage urges a windmill to pinch infinity?
	Is a magic hid-a-bed the final home of Spanish fire?
	Is firm corn merrier under gifts of less important love?
	We wonder.
	But fantasy moves ahead;
	For the iceman just took a turn for the better
	And a small object flies from his mouth;
	A daring, jewel scales down the belted ear system
	And you have the modular optimistic silver original.
	Welcome to the offshoots of Jupiter.
	Chorus:
	Edweena never knowing why her friend would ramble so
	She shut him out and left a pout to bleed upon the snow.
	Porcupine:
	Mourning Glories open only after noon begins;
	The open and the broken have begun to blend again.
	They freeze a shape about the nape
	Of nectar and of knee;
	They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve fox
	Mourning's never free.
	Uncle Remus:
	The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul.
	(The empties that have been returned relieve us of a goal).
	Chorus:
	Now who is gone and who is right
	And who is left to see
	For who is left is just a few
	Can two be more than three?

	zuo ci : Residents
	Chorus:
	Edweena went to calumet and left from there to college
	She took along a porcupine whose name was known as knowledge
	Now their relationship was fraught with pangs of loving hunger.
	The Porcupine could question all, but all she new was slumber.
	Porcupine:
	A huge easy cozy wants our kiss to triumph,
	But unbelievable admits
	Some questions receive a guarantee to shake you up.
	How much marriage urges a windmill to pinch infinity?
	Is a magic hidabed the final home of Spanish fire?
	Is firm corn merrier under gifts of less important love?
	We wonder.
	But fantasy moves ahead
	For the iceman just took a turn for the better
	And a small object flies from his mouth
	A daring, jewel scales down the belted ear system
	And you have the modular optimistic silver original.
	Welcome to the offshoots of Jupiter.
	Chorus:
	Edweena never knowing why her friend would ramble so
	She shut him out and left a pout to bleed upon the snow.
	Porcupine:
	Mourning Glories open only after noon begins
	The open and the broken have begun to blend again.
	They freeze a shape about the nape
	Of nectar and of knee
	They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve fox
	Mourning' s never free.
	Uncle Remus:
	The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul.
	The empties that have been returned relieve us of a goal.
	Chorus:
	Now who is gone and who is right
	And who is left to see
	For who is left is just a few
	Can two be more than three?

	zuò cí : Residents
	Chorus:
	Edweena went to calumet and left from there to college
	She took along a porcupine whose name was known as knowledge
	Now their relationship was fraught with pangs of loving hunger.
	The Porcupine could question all, but all she new was slumber.
	Porcupine:
	A huge easy cozy wants our kiss to triumph,
	But unbelievable admits
	Some questions receive a guarantee to shake you up.
	How much marriage urges a windmill to pinch infinity?
	Is a magic hidabed the final home of Spanish fire?
	Is firm corn merrier under gifts of less important love?
	We wonder.
	But fantasy moves ahead
	For the iceman just took a turn for the better
	And a small object flies from his mouth
	A daring, jewel scales down the belted ear system
	And you have the modular optimistic silver original.
	Welcome to the offshoots of Jupiter.
	Chorus:
	Edweena never knowing why her friend would ramble so
	She shut him out and left a pout to bleed upon the snow.
	Porcupine:
	Mourning Glories open only after noon begins
	The open and the broken have begun to blend again.
	They freeze a shape about the nape
	Of nectar and of knee
	They leave a sleeve, they weave a grieve fox
	Mourning' s never free.
	Uncle Remus:
	The aching and the breaking are the making of a soul.
	The empties that have been returned relieve us of a goal.
	Chorus:
	Now who is gone and who is right
	And who is left to see
	For who is left is just a few
	Can two be more than three?

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