歌曲 | My Secret is My Silence |
歌手 | Roddy Woomble |
专辑 | My Secret is My Silence |
作曲 : McCusker, Woomble | |
If you never leave the highlands | |
like you're drowning under rain | |
and your sadness tastes like whiskey | |
and my body breathes the same | |
and ill drain my wisdom empty | |
just to feel that space again | |
but you know nothing is outside | |
and my secret is my silence | |
my secret is my silence | |
and my silence is in vain | |
im sick of living in these buildings | |
that were built from blood and rain | |
and from the warm side of the window | |
the views always look the same | |
but your face it held the stories | |
full of dreams it can contain | |
but you know nothing is outside | |
and my secret is my silence | |
my secret is my silence | |
and my silence is in vain | |
but you know nothing is outside | |
and my secret is my silence | |
my secret is my silence | |
and my silence is in vain | |
and you held on to a country | |
from the cail yard to the grave | |
and you spoke in quickly written verses | |
hidden in your gaelic name | |
to approach land without a harbour | |
to find your way home | |
you approach land without a harbour | |
to find your way home |
zuò qǔ : McCusker, Woomble | |
If you never leave the highlands | |
like you' re drowning under rain | |
and your sadness tastes like whiskey | |
and my body breathes the same | |
and ill drain my wisdom empty | |
just to feel that space again | |
but you know nothing is outside | |
and my secret is my silence | |
my secret is my silence | |
and my silence is in vain | |
im sick of living in these buildings | |
that were built from blood and rain | |
and from the warm side of the window | |
the views always look the same | |
but your face it held the stories | |
full of dreams it can contain | |
but you know nothing is outside | |
and my secret is my silence | |
my secret is my silence | |
and my silence is in vain | |
but you know nothing is outside | |
and my secret is my silence | |
my secret is my silence | |
and my silence is in vain | |
and you held on to a country | |
from the cail yard to the grave | |
and you spoke in quickly written verses | |
hidden in your gaelic name | |
to approach land without a harbour | |
to find your way home | |
you approach land without a harbour | |
to find your way home |