歌曲 | The Sandringham Line |
歌手 | The Lucksmiths |
专辑 | Naturaliste |
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 |
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 |