I Once Wrote Some Poems 歌词

	作词 : Hammill
	I once wrote some poems of stillness and silence,
	standing by rivers of reflected light;
	my thoughts were on being loved and yet unloved, too –
	I surrendered to the warmth of the night.
	And now I feel like dying,
	and if the water were still here,
	it would hold me close.
	I once wrote a poem while walking on gravestones,
	as cobbles, rain and tears lashed down my face;
	I then felt my whole world was fading
	as memories jostled and fell into place.
	And now I feel like dying,
	and the pain of old fires still burns.
	I never wrote poems when I bit my knuckles
	and Death started slipping into my mouth...
	but that was really a long time ago,
	and I'm not writing poems now.
	And though I don't feel quite like dying,
	there is something deep inside me
	softly crying.
	And though I don't feel quite like dying
	there is something deep inside me softly....

	zuo ci : Hammill
	I once wrote some poems of stillness and silence,
	standing by rivers of reflected light
	my thoughts were on being loved and yet unloved, too
	I surrendered to the warmth of the night.
	And now I feel like dying,
	and if the water were still here,
	it would hold me close.
	I once wrote a poem while walking on gravestones,
	as cobbles, rain and tears lashed down my face
	I then felt my whole world was fading
	as memories jostled and fell into place.
	And now I feel like dying,
	and the pain of old fires still burns.
	I never wrote poems when I bit my knuckles
	and Death started slipping into my mouth...
	but that was really a long time ago,
	and I' m not writing poems now.
	And though I don' t feel quite like dying,
	there is something deep inside me
	softly crying.
	And though I don' t feel quite like dying
	there is something deep inside me softly....

	zuò cí : Hammill
	I once wrote some poems of stillness and silence,
	standing by rivers of reflected light
	my thoughts were on being loved and yet unloved, too
	I surrendered to the warmth of the night.
	And now I feel like dying,
	and if the water were still here,
	it would hold me close.
	I once wrote a poem while walking on gravestones,
	as cobbles, rain and tears lashed down my face
	I then felt my whole world was fading
	as memories jostled and fell into place.
	And now I feel like dying,
	and the pain of old fires still burns.
	I never wrote poems when I bit my knuckles
	and Death started slipping into my mouth...
	but that was really a long time ago,
	and I' m not writing poems now.
	And though I don' t feel quite like dying,
	there is something deep inside me
	softly crying.
	And though I don' t feel quite like dying
	there is something deep inside me softly....

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