作曲 : Ken Andrews/Greg Edwards | |
作词 : Greg Edwards | |
Small crimes | |
Smiles stretched on | |
old trees | |
Strike your match so | |
lightly | |
Watch the crooked | |
smoke rise | |
Empty praters to | |
heaven | |
Just a mask of | |
blue sky | |
Look away to | |
Small crimes | |
Kick the dog for | |
eating | |
Leave your old self | |
hungry | |
Watch in coldest | |
pleasure | |
Tell the world what | |
Ever turns you on is fine | |
with me as long as | |
Matches don't get wet | |
Warm winds calling me a | |
coward make me smile | |
They can't convince | |
me now | |
Burned prayers turn me | |
on to nowhere sick | |
and empty | |
I don't feel so bad | |
Ever turns around again | |
says to me softly | |
Start the fire now | |
Small crimes sever | |
used-up old | |
considerations | |
Freedoms not so great | |
All fears burn up | |
They said hold on to the | |
stairway railing | |
Meaning everything | |
is meaning | |
Something makes it hard | |
to keep track | |
Hold on found me | |
tangled forest | |
Growing got my | |
driest summer | |
Small crimes held my | |
match box tightly |
zuo qu : Ken Andrews Greg Edwards | |
zuo ci : Greg Edwards | |
Small crimes | |
Smiles stretched on | |
old trees | |
Strike your match so | |
lightly | |
Watch the crooked | |
smoke rise | |
Empty praters to | |
heaven | |
Just a mask of | |
blue sky | |
Look away to | |
Small crimes | |
Kick the dog for | |
eating | |
Leave your old self | |
hungry | |
Watch in coldest | |
pleasure | |
Tell the world what | |
Ever turns you on is fine | |
with me as long as | |
Matches don' t get wet | |
Warm winds calling me a | |
coward make me smile | |
They can' t convince | |
me now | |
Burned prayers turn me | |
on to nowhere sick | |
and empty | |
I don' t feel so bad | |
Ever turns around again | |
says to me softly | |
Start the fire now | |
Small crimes sever | |
usedup old | |
considerations | |
Freedoms not so great | |
All fears burn up | |
They said hold on to the | |
stairway railing | |
Meaning everything | |
is meaning | |
Something makes it hard | |
to keep track | |
Hold on found me | |
tangled forest | |
Growing got my | |
driest summer | |
Small crimes held my | |
match box tightly |
zuò qǔ : Ken Andrews Greg Edwards | |
zuò cí : Greg Edwards | |
Small crimes | |
Smiles stretched on | |
old trees | |
Strike your match so | |
lightly | |
Watch the crooked | |
smoke rise | |
Empty praters to | |
heaven | |
Just a mask of | |
blue sky | |
Look away to | |
Small crimes | |
Kick the dog for | |
eating | |
Leave your old self | |
hungry | |
Watch in coldest | |
pleasure | |
Tell the world what | |
Ever turns you on is fine | |
with me as long as | |
Matches don' t get wet | |
Warm winds calling me a | |
coward make me smile | |
They can' t convince | |
me now | |
Burned prayers turn me | |
on to nowhere sick | |
and empty | |
I don' t feel so bad | |
Ever turns around again | |
says to me softly | |
Start the fire now | |
Small crimes sever | |
usedup old | |
considerations | |
Freedoms not so great | |
All fears burn up | |
They said hold on to the | |
stairway railing | |
Meaning everything | |
is meaning | |
Something makes it hard | |
to keep track | |
Hold on found me | |
tangled forest | |
Growing got my | |
driest summer | |
Small crimes held my | |
match box tightly |