When You and I Were Young 歌词

	作曲 : The Clientele
	When you and I were young
	We would press our white faces from the car
	And the rain on the windows
	Would run through the gathering dark
	And the lampposts shone and dogs would run into the dying frame
	Where the park was glowing dimly through the silence of the lanes
	And the radiator's hum rose above the falling leaves
	Where, so fragile and so young, you had drifted into sleep
	I've been for a walk
	And every face I see seems to be mine
	Nighttime comes, the birds have flown
	A fever glows in every line
	I love this season, this weary night
	The flint, the dreams, the silent pines
	The eeriness is in the feeling
	That I have finished everything
	And a child from the school
	Was running back to her car
	And her white face cried
	She was deaf and afraid of the dark
	And the whispering house grew still as we stared into the night
	In the garden and the lamps and the window's fading light
	And though Christmas was the same, we had seen another year
	Turning softly through the flames

	zuo qu : The Clientele
	When you and I were young
	We would press our white faces from the car
	And the rain on the windows
	Would run through the gathering dark
	And the lampposts shone and dogs would run into the dying frame
	Where the park was glowing dimly through the silence of the lanes
	And the radiator' s hum rose above the falling leaves
	Where, so fragile and so young, you had drifted into sleep
	I' ve been for a walk
	And every face I see seems to be mine
	Nighttime comes, the birds have flown
	A fever glows in every line
	I love this season, this weary night
	The flint, the dreams, the silent pines
	The eeriness is in the feeling
	That I have finished everything
	And a child from the school
	Was running back to her car
	And her white face cried
	She was deaf and afraid of the dark
	And the whispering house grew still as we stared into the night
	In the garden and the lamps and the window' s fading light
	And though Christmas was the same, we had seen another year
	Turning softly through the flames

	zuò qǔ : The Clientele
	When you and I were young
	We would press our white faces from the car
	And the rain on the windows
	Would run through the gathering dark
	And the lampposts shone and dogs would run into the dying frame
	Where the park was glowing dimly through the silence of the lanes
	And the radiator' s hum rose above the falling leaves
	Where, so fragile and so young, you had drifted into sleep
	I' ve been for a walk
	And every face I see seems to be mine
	Nighttime comes, the birds have flown
	A fever glows in every line
	I love this season, this weary night
	The flint, the dreams, the silent pines
	The eeriness is in the feeling
	That I have finished everything
	And a child from the school
	Was running back to her car
	And her white face cried
	She was deaf and afraid of the dark
	And the whispering house grew still as we stared into the night
	In the garden and the lamps and the window' s fading light
	And though Christmas was the same, we had seen another year
	Turning softly through the flames

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