歌曲 | Eleven Years |
歌手 | New Model Army |
专辑 | ...& Nobody Else |
作词 : Heaton, Nice, Sullivan | |
Stevie said now don't look round they're watching us | |
Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club | |
And the grey eyes, the storm that I've come to know and wish for | |
Before I caught a breath, well, she was standing there. | |
We walked the streets of our town just talking | |
And the dawn broke grey and freezing through the deserted blocks | |
Just when your life is stale and there's reason there for everything | |
Something comes to kick you up inside | |
Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
Trying not to look down | |
No Rest for the wicked is still how it goes | |
Twisted up and turning in my bed alone | |
And separation pains like a blunted amputation | |
Pushing endless coins in the telephone | |
Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
Trying not to look down | |
So rest in these open arms and lie until they come for you | |
And tell me everything you've ever felt, tell me everything you want to see . . . | |
Forever running even when we are standing still | |
Driven on and fired up as the whirlwinds blow | |
And shouting out inside "I'm proud of you, I'm proud of you" | |
Ten thousand footsteps echo down the Brixton Road | |
Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
Trying not to look down |
zuò cí : Heaton, Nice, Sullivan | |
Stevie said now don' t look round they' re watching us | |
Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club | |
And the grey eyes, the storm that I' ve come to know and wish for | |
Before I caught a breath, well, she was standing there. | |
We walked the streets of our town just talking | |
And the dawn broke grey and freezing through the deserted blocks | |
Just when your life is stale and there' s reason there for everything | |
Something comes to kick you up inside | |
Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
Trying not to look down | |
No Rest for the wicked is still how it goes | |
Twisted up and turning in my bed alone | |
And separation pains like a blunted amputation | |
Pushing endless coins in the telephone | |
Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
Trying not to look down | |
So rest in these open arms and lie until they come for you | |
And tell me everything you' ve ever felt, tell me everything you want to see . . . | |
Forever running even when we are standing still | |
Driven on and fired up as the whirlwinds blow | |
And shouting out inside " I' m proud of you, I' m proud of you" | |
Ten thousand footsteps echo down the Brixton Road | |
Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
Trying not to look down |