The Sandringham Line 歌词

	作词 : Donald
	She's given it some thought
	And it's giving her some grief
	Could it be she's bored beyond belief?
	By the time she says goodbye
	She's looking somewhere else
	Stifling a sigh and gritting teeth
	At the open door she pauses
	It's grey and wet and warm
	Before the pending storm
	Every now and then she misses horses
	We're too young for regrets
	This is the closest that she gets
	So I sleep in with the cynics
	While she pushes from her mind
	The twenty-seven minutes of the Sandringham line
	The suburbs sliding past
	Stretching to the sea
	Her fingers brush the glass unconsciously
	At the open door she pauses
	It's grey and wet and warm
	Before the pending storm
	Every now and then she misses horses
	We're too young for regrets
	Surely we're too young for regrets
	I sat backwards on the train
	And suddenly the city was further and further in front of me

	zuo ci : Donald
	She' s given it some thought
	And it' s giving her some grief
	Could it be she' s bored beyond belief?
	By the time she says goodbye
	She' s looking somewhere else
	Stifling a sigh and gritting teeth
	At the open door she pauses
	It' s grey and wet and warm
	Before the pending storm
	Every now and then she misses horses
	We' re too young for regrets
	This is the closest that she gets
	So I sleep in with the cynics
	While she pushes from her mind
	The twentyseven minutes of the Sandringham line
	The suburbs sliding past
	Stretching to the sea
	Her fingers brush the glass unconsciously
	At the open door she pauses
	It' s grey and wet and warm
	Before the pending storm
	Every now and then she misses horses
	We' re too young for regrets
	Surely we' re too young for regrets
	I sat backwards on the train
	And suddenly the city was further and further in front of me

	zuò cí : Donald
	She' s given it some thought
	And it' s giving her some grief
	Could it be she' s bored beyond belief?
	By the time she says goodbye
	She' s looking somewhere else
	Stifling a sigh and gritting teeth
	At the open door she pauses
	It' s grey and wet and warm
	Before the pending storm
	Every now and then she misses horses
	We' re too young for regrets
	This is the closest that she gets
	So I sleep in with the cynics
	While she pushes from her mind
	The twentyseven minutes of the Sandringham line
	The suburbs sliding past
	Stretching to the sea
	Her fingers brush the glass unconsciously
	At the open door she pauses
	It' s grey and wet and warm
	Before the pending storm
	Every now and then she misses horses
	We' re too young for regrets
	Surely we' re too young for regrets
	I sat backwards on the train
	And suddenly the city was further and further in front of me

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