歌曲 | Another Radio Song |
歌手 | Okkervil River |
专辑 | Black Sheep Boy & Appendix |
Sit back, no song is written | |
It’s nothing you thought of | |
Yourself It’s just a ghost, came unbidden | |
To this house | |
This infection gets stronger every year | |
This seed in the water of your tear | |
There is no escaping it | |
This seed in the water of your tear | |
The way an unborn baby’s ear | |
Unfolds in your belly | |
This infection gets stronger every year | |
This direction of a tear rolling down your cheek | |
And there is no escaping it | |
There is no escaping | |
The thing that is making | |
It's home in your radio | |
Bless this tiny alley we have fallen from tall buildings we have fallen through the air | |
Into a garden sweetly smelling of the softest | |
Sleeping flowers now they sit under the sidewalk | |
Now they’re waiting for the shining of some future sun to show us | |
All that is your beauty | |
Oh and all that brings you pleasure | |
I could sigh into your hide | |
And say I hope | |
I’m here forever | |
But Black | |
Sheep Boy with your lovers | |
With your list of favorite pillows with your list of missing children | |
With the wall where you drew windows | |
Overlooking hidden gardens | |
Cut apart by jagged mountains | |
Climbing up into the air | |
And crumbling down into a fountain | |
Where the water waits forever | |
Like a quiet distant treasure | |
When you rise up to recover | |
When you leave this tiny alley | |
When you meet me in the garden | |
With your horns all hung with cedar | |
Every spirit brushing past me | |
Brushing past them in the ether | |
Scream all this is window dressing | |
All you are is flimsy curtains | |
Watch you flame up with a word from us | |
And won’t know that you’re | |
Burning! Burning | |
Burning! (There's no escaping The thing that is making It's home in your radio There's no escaping The thing that is making It's home in your radio) |
Sit back, no song is written | |
It' s nothing you thought of | |
Yourself It' s just a ghost, came unbidden | |
To this house | |
This infection gets stronger every year | |
This seed in the water of your tear | |
There is no escaping it | |
This seed in the water of your tear | |
The way an unborn baby' s ear | |
Unfolds in your belly | |
This infection gets stronger every year | |
This direction of a tear rolling down your cheek | |
And there is no escaping it | |
There is no escaping | |
The thing that is making | |
It' s home in your radio | |
Bless this tiny alley we have fallen from tall buildings we have fallen through the air | |
Into a garden sweetly smelling of the softest | |
Sleeping flowers now they sit under the sidewalk | |
Now they' re waiting for the shining of some future sun to show us | |
All that is your beauty | |
Oh and all that brings you pleasure | |
I could sigh into your hide | |
And say I hope | |
I' m here forever | |
But Black | |
Sheep Boy with your lovers | |
With your list of favorite pillows with your list of missing children | |
With the wall where you drew windows | |
Overlooking hidden gardens | |
Cut apart by jagged mountains | |
Climbing up into the air | |
And crumbling down into a fountain | |
Where the water waits forever | |
Like a quiet distant treasure | |
When you rise up to recover | |
When you leave this tiny alley | |
When you meet me in the garden | |
With your horns all hung with cedar | |
Every spirit brushing past me | |
Brushing past them in the ether | |
Scream all this is window dressing | |
All you are is flimsy curtains | |
Watch you flame up with a word from us | |
And won' t know that you' re | |
Burning! Burning | |
Burning! There' s no escaping The thing that is making It' s home in your radio There' s no escaping The thing that is making It' s home in your radio |