| 作曲 : Crosby, Geraghty, Noonan ... | |
| Somewhere in this sea of | |
| Club Milks | |
| Tea and ashtrays | |
| There is a song | |
| I'm in the crow's nest with binoculars | |
| Just waiting for one to come along | |
| I've seen the flare so | |
| I know it's there | |
| It has me tied up at a rate of knots | |
| No navigation, global position | |
| Just me and this midnight oil | |
| So take me to your king | |
| I hear he's the man to see | |
| And I will cross his palm | |
| My first born for a song | |
| Somewhere in this froth | |
| And howling wind | |
| There's something worth singing | |
| Climb into the attic to write me a classic | |
| But it's not happening | |
| It's just | |
| Christmas up here | |
| Between the phone calls | |
| And text messages | |
| The air must be thick with words | |
| But not between us | |
| Shoulder to grindstone | |
| Switching to manual | |
| Keep the head down | |
| And I'll see you at the end | |
| So take me to your king | |
| I hear he's the man to see | |
| And I will cross his palm |
| zuo qu : Crosby, Geraghty, Noonan ... | |
| Somewhere in this sea of | |
| Club Milks | |
| Tea and ashtrays | |
| There is a song | |
| I' m in the crow' s nest with binoculars | |
| Just waiting for one to come along | |
| I' ve seen the flare so | |
| I know it' s there | |
| It has me tied up at a rate of knots | |
| No navigation, global position | |
| Just me and this midnight oil | |
| So take me to your king | |
| I hear he' s the man to see | |
| And I will cross his palm | |
| My first born for a song | |
| Somewhere in this froth | |
| And howling wind | |
| There' s something worth singing | |
| Climb into the attic to write me a classic | |
| But it' s not happening | |
| It' s just | |
| Christmas up here | |
| Between the phone calls | |
| And text messages | |
| The air must be thick with words | |
| But not between us | |
| Shoulder to grindstone | |
| Switching to manual | |
| Keep the head down | |
| And I' ll see you at the end | |
| So take me to your king | |
| I hear he' s the man to see | |
| And I will cross his palm |
| zuò qǔ : Crosby, Geraghty, Noonan ... | |
| Somewhere in this sea of | |
| Club Milks | |
| Tea and ashtrays | |
| There is a song | |
| I' m in the crow' s nest with binoculars | |
| Just waiting for one to come along | |
| I' ve seen the flare so | |
| I know it' s there | |
| It has me tied up at a rate of knots | |
| No navigation, global position | |
| Just me and this midnight oil | |
| So take me to your king | |
| I hear he' s the man to see | |
| And I will cross his palm | |
| My first born for a song | |
| Somewhere in this froth | |
| And howling wind | |
| There' s something worth singing | |
| Climb into the attic to write me a classic | |
| But it' s not happening | |
| It' s just | |
| Christmas up here | |
| Between the phone calls | |
| And text messages | |
| The air must be thick with words | |
| But not between us | |
| Shoulder to grindstone | |
| Switching to manual | |
| Keep the head down | |
| And I' ll see you at the end | |
| So take me to your king | |
| I hear he' s the man to see | |
| And I will cross his palm |
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