歌曲 | Tight To The Jar |
歌手 | Kelly Joe Phelps |
专辑 | Tunesmith Retrofit |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Phelps | |
It's a ditch, okay. I have shoes and a blanket | |
My head resting light on a stone | |
Though it's hard it's still rounded with a pocket for brains | |
or what goes for in halls under roof tile | |
We'll sing another blistering ballad for grandma | |
Melody sweet till it rolls out the ear | |
And the beer flows free as advice | |
With a tight hand holding the jar | |
A tight hand holding the jar | |
The mud cakes my chin strap, fills up my cuffs | |
As I plod, now, from creek edge to street side | |
As it dries I can whittle it little by little | |
"Hey, look, now I'm light as a bee" | |
And those gray clouds mean nothing to one such as I | |
Though shadows stand tall as some school master whack | |
On the back of a well intentioned quiet kid | |
With my arms held around the jar | |
My arms held around the jar | |
And it's slow, so slow the idea | |
The coming around of a sensible world | |
It hovers and shakes like a hummingbird wing | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
So fry up that supper, we're going to kill it for breakfast | |
As we turn the table down side and crazy | |
With the legs up, the women up, the men up to church | |
For the spirit, the hen yard, the bent steel track rap | |
It's a ditch, yeah, I know that, and, I do wonder | |
How that bright faced, ten year old me of a boy | |
Found the road out I never, I never could see | |
With my arms held around a jar | |
My arms held around a jar | |
And it's slow, so slow the idea | |
The coming around of a sensible world | |
It hovers and shakes like a hummingbird wing | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year |
zuo ci : Phelps | |
It' s a ditch, okay. I have shoes and a blanket | |
My head resting light on a stone | |
Though it' s hard it' s still rounded with a pocket for brains | |
or what goes for in halls under roof tile | |
We' ll sing another blistering ballad for grandma | |
Melody sweet till it rolls out the ear | |
And the beer flows free as advice | |
With a tight hand holding the jar | |
A tight hand holding the jar | |
The mud cakes my chin strap, fills up my cuffs | |
As I plod, now, from creek edge to street side | |
As it dries I can whittle it little by little | |
" Hey, look, now I' m light as a bee" | |
And those gray clouds mean nothing to one such as I | |
Though shadows stand tall as some school master whack | |
On the back of a well intentioned quiet kid | |
With my arms held around the jar | |
My arms held around the jar | |
And it' s slow, so slow the idea | |
The coming around of a sensible world | |
It hovers and shakes like a hummingbird wing | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
So fry up that supper, we' re going to kill it for breakfast | |
As we turn the table down side and crazy | |
With the legs up, the women up, the men up to church | |
For the spirit, the hen yard, the bent steel track rap | |
It' s a ditch, yeah, I know that, and, I do wonder | |
How that bright faced, ten year old me of a boy | |
Found the road out I never, I never could see | |
With my arms held around a jar | |
My arms held around a jar | |
And it' s slow, so slow the idea | |
The coming around of a sensible world | |
It hovers and shakes like a hummingbird wing | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year |
zuò cí : Phelps | |
It' s a ditch, okay. I have shoes and a blanket | |
My head resting light on a stone | |
Though it' s hard it' s still rounded with a pocket for brains | |
or what goes for in halls under roof tile | |
We' ll sing another blistering ballad for grandma | |
Melody sweet till it rolls out the ear | |
And the beer flows free as advice | |
With a tight hand holding the jar | |
A tight hand holding the jar | |
The mud cakes my chin strap, fills up my cuffs | |
As I plod, now, from creek edge to street side | |
As it dries I can whittle it little by little | |
" Hey, look, now I' m light as a bee" | |
And those gray clouds mean nothing to one such as I | |
Though shadows stand tall as some school master whack | |
On the back of a well intentioned quiet kid | |
With my arms held around the jar | |
My arms held around the jar | |
And it' s slow, so slow the idea | |
The coming around of a sensible world | |
It hovers and shakes like a hummingbird wing | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
So fry up that supper, we' re going to kill it for breakfast | |
As we turn the table down side and crazy | |
With the legs up, the women up, the men up to church | |
For the spirit, the hen yard, the bent steel track rap | |
It' s a ditch, yeah, I know that, and, I do wonder | |
How that bright faced, ten year old me of a boy | |
Found the road out I never, I never could see | |
With my arms held around a jar | |
My arms held around a jar | |
And it' s slow, so slow the idea | |
The coming around of a sensible world | |
It hovers and shakes like a hummingbird wing | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year | |
At the end of a long hot year |