歌曲 | The Anvil |
歌手 | Kelly Joe Phelps |
专辑 | Tunesmith Retrofit |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Phelps | |
There are some that blindly and happily plow | |
While the tractor screams "Feed me some oil" | |
The scraping of gears and the gnashing of teeth | |
Fall softly on full ahead ears | |
A frown may give away something right | |
A smile can hide crooked affairs | |
The sun on the back rings a work man's guffaw | |
It's all in the bag with coins | |
Call me tomorrow, then come over here | |
See if we can figure this out | |
There in an eye winking curiously | |
By the campground, the bedside night stand | |
My leg bones feel weary yet walk on they will | |
Holding for wheels and gravy | |
on a plate full of nothing but shaking my head | |
with a side bowl of nothing to do | |
Could be a time thing, could be a ruse | |
And I will concede to confusion | |
Ideas spin 'round my crazy old head | |
Hard as (and light as) an anvil | |
The liver will wither and wax with the tide | |
Fine, if I can find the answer | |
To a question I've never been asked before | |
I hear time and time again |
zuo ci : Phelps | |
There are some that blindly and happily plow | |
While the tractor screams " Feed me some oil" | |
The scraping of gears and the gnashing of teeth | |
Fall softly on full ahead ears | |
A frown may give away something right | |
A smile can hide crooked affairs | |
The sun on the back rings a work man' s guffaw | |
It' s all in the bag with coins | |
Call me tomorrow, then come over here | |
See if we can figure this out | |
There in an eye winking curiously | |
By the campground, the bedside night stand | |
My leg bones feel weary yet walk on they will | |
Holding for wheels and gravy | |
on a plate full of nothing but shaking my head | |
with a side bowl of nothing to do | |
Could be a time thing, could be a ruse | |
And I will concede to confusion | |
Ideas spin ' round my crazy old head | |
Hard as and light as an anvil | |
The liver will wither and wax with the tide | |
Fine, if I can find the answer | |
To a question I' ve never been asked before | |
I hear time and time again |
zuò cí : Phelps | |
There are some that blindly and happily plow | |
While the tractor screams " Feed me some oil" | |
The scraping of gears and the gnashing of teeth | |
Fall softly on full ahead ears | |
A frown may give away something right | |
A smile can hide crooked affairs | |
The sun on the back rings a work man' s guffaw | |
It' s all in the bag with coins | |
Call me tomorrow, then come over here | |
See if we can figure this out | |
There in an eye winking curiously | |
By the campground, the bedside night stand | |
My leg bones feel weary yet walk on they will | |
Holding for wheels and gravy | |
on a plate full of nothing but shaking my head | |
with a side bowl of nothing to do | |
Could be a time thing, could be a ruse | |
And I will concede to confusion | |
Ideas spin ' round my crazy old head | |
Hard as and light as an anvil | |
The liver will wither and wax with the tide | |
Fine, if I can find the answer | |
To a question I' ve never been asked before | |
I hear time and time again |