The Return To Innocence Lost - Album Version (Explicit) 歌词
| 歌曲 | The Return To Innocence Lost - Album Version (Explicit) |
| 歌手 | The Roots |
| 专辑 | Things Fall Apart |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Ursula Rucker & Ahmir Thompson & Anthony Tidd | |
| 作词 : Rucker, Thompson, Tidd | |
| (feat. Ursula Rucker) [Ursula Rucker] | |
| Muffled sound of fist on flesh | |
| Blows to chest | |
| No breath | |
| Air gasps | |
| You ain't nothing but white trash, bitch! | |
| With each hit, each kick, each...broken rib | |
| Crack, Crack! | |
| Bones are crying | |
| Mommy's crying and bleeding | |
| And pleading | |
| And then... | |
| Daddy wants to fuck | |
| Dick hard, swelled with power rush | |
| And as if all that wasn't enough | |
| Mommy's seven months heavy with birth | |
| As...Daddy grunts and cursed drunk nothings in her bloodied ear [singing softly] | |
| First...lullaby | |
| First...Son...will...ever...hear | |
| And never forget | |
| Mommy almost bled to death when she have him...finally | |
| She'd already lost...three | |
| Uterus-bruised, shredded, and weak | |
| From being daily beat | |
| And Friday nights were the worse and... | |
| Daddy never came with flowers | |
| Instead he spent hours at some corner spot | |
| With some bar pop named | |
| Cookie Putting his thing down | |
| Soiling Mommy's sheets with... | |
| Sweet...talk shit, | |
| Cookie's cheap lipstick, | |
| Hair grease, sperm, and jezebel juice | |
| To hell with the good news that... | |
| He was a father for the first time | |
| His thirst for wine and women | |
| Clouded his vision... | |
| No warm welcome for mother and son | |
| Just... The rank smell of ass-crack, funk, and cum | |
| But Mommy's prayerful strength-her best defense | |
| She...burned the dirty linens | |
| Made a fresh bed | |
| Laid sleeping | |
| First Son down | |
| And never made a sound | |
| As she purged her scourge | |
| With birth-blood and quiet tears | |
| Watching as her fears and love and sacrifice | |
| Lie there in his soft skin and new life | |
| Breathing, dreaming, fresh from | |
| God's eye | |
| Mommy's little survivor | |
| Like...her | |
| Mommy called crazy and scorned ' | |
| Cuz she two more born | |
| One boy soon after | |
| The girl much later and... | |
| Although they were both sung the same lullabies of hate | |
| Her...First | |
| Son, the first one | |
| Whose...womb-world was profaned | |
| Came of age playing street games | |
| With Stewie, | |
| Rezzie, and | |
| Little Brother ' | |
| Till his heart start to wither | |
| In pain and shame | |
| Blamed Mom for the wrong she let | |
| Daddy do to her | |
| And him... | |
| Let...sins of the | |
| Father cause his | |
| Innocence to wander | |
| Found out amongst thieves | |
| Chose to squander his dreams | |
| Stopped believing in himself | |
| Become prodigal with his life | |
| Make impossible shit right with... | |
| Gang-ties, crime, lies | |
| Erase wise, woeful words of | |
| Mother Replaced them with absurdities of others | |
| Who had also lost their way | |
| Played a different kind of street game now | |
| First Son plunged deep | |
| Speak street-family vows | |
| Espouse no causes but his own | |
| See, he couldn't protect | |
| Mommy's neck from | |
| Daddy's grasp | |
| Or...protect | |
| Mommy's ass from | |
| Daddy's wrath | |
| Couldn't shield her ears from... | |
| Daddy's foul-mouthed, liquor-breath jeers | |
| His only defense-served be confidence | |
| Brown bottles housed his swift descent | |
| Phones called cops on block frequent for his shenanigans | |
| Now...Daddy and him twins in addiction | |
| Driven to false-hearted heavens and friends | |
| By liquefied demons | |
| Had become what he despised from | |
| Conception 'til | |
| End Destined for a demise | |
| Survived nine lives of staying high | |
| Conning, jewelry-pawning, arrests, theft | |
| Womanizing...only for money, never for sex | |
| Bullet in chest, baseball bat to the head | |
| Left for dead | |
| So, eyes wide and glassy | |
| Speech...slowed and slurred | |
| Lips twitched with caked-up codeine candy | |
| And mouth corners one | |
| December 24th | |
| Mr. Hide and | |
| False Friend | |
| Took final ride to suburban supplier | |
| Shots were fired by the gray man | |
| With shaky hand | |
| But not shaky enough to miss... | |
| Hit...Lost | |
| Boy in back | |
| So-called | |
| Friend runs for door | |
| Leaves First | |
| Son blood-born | |
| Lying alone in blood on cold floor | |
| Death was the cause of... | |
| Returning to | |
| Innocence | |
| Lost... Baby ' | |
| Sis awake for dawn on | |
| Christmas morn | |
| To Mommy's sobs and shakes | |
| Daddy's silhouettes of regret | |
| All past, omitted, and absolved by lost | |
| As they clung to each other | |
| Knowing... |
| zuo qu : Ursula Rucker Ahmir Thompson Anthony Tidd | |
| zuo ci : Rucker, Thompson, Tidd | |
| feat. Ursula Rucker Ursula Rucker | |
| Muffled sound of fist on flesh | |
| Blows to chest | |
| No breath | |
| Air gasps | |
| You ain' t nothing but white trash, bitch! | |
| With each hit, each kick, each... broken rib | |
| Crack, Crack! | |
| Bones are crying | |
| Mommy' s crying and bleeding | |
| And pleading | |
| And then... | |
| Daddy wants to fuck | |
| Dick hard, swelled with power rush | |
| And as if all that wasn' t enough | |
| Mommy' s seven months heavy with birth | |
| As... Daddy grunts and cursed drunk nothings in her bloodied ear singing softly | |
| First... lullaby | |
| First... Son... will... ever... hear | |
| And never forget | |
| Mommy almost bled to death when she have him... finally | |
| She' d already lost... three | |
| Uterusbruised, shredded, and weak | |
| From being daily beat | |
| And Friday nights were the worse and... | |
| Daddy never came with flowers | |
| Instead he spent hours at some corner spot | |
| With some bar pop named | |
| Cookie Putting his thing down | |
| Soiling Mommy' s sheets with... | |
| Sweet... talk shit, | |
| Cookie' s cheap lipstick, | |
| Hair grease, sperm, and jezebel juice | |
| To hell with the good news that... | |
| He was a father for the first time | |
| His thirst for wine and women | |
| Clouded his vision... | |
| No warm welcome for mother and son | |
| Just... The rank smell of asscrack, funk, and cum | |
| But Mommy' s prayerful strengthher best defense | |
| She... burned the dirty linens | |
| Made a fresh bed | |
| Laid sleeping | |
| First Son down | |
| And never made a sound | |
| As she purged her scourge | |
| With birthblood and quiet tears | |
| Watching as her fears and love and sacrifice | |
| Lie there in his soft skin and new life | |
| Breathing, dreaming, fresh from | |
| God' s eye | |
| Mommy' s little survivor | |
| Like... her | |
| Mommy called crazy and scorned ' | |
| Cuz she two more born | |
| One boy soon after | |
| The girl much later and... | |
| Although they were both sung the same lullabies of hate | |
| Her... First | |
| Son, the first one | |
| Whose... wombworld was profaned | |
| Came of age playing street games | |
| With Stewie, | |
| Rezzie, and | |
| Little Brother ' | |
| Till his heart start to wither | |
| In pain and shame | |
| Blamed Mom for the wrong she let | |
| Daddy do to her | |
| And him... | |
| Let... sins of the | |
| Father cause his | |
| Innocence to wander | |
| Found out amongst thieves | |
| Chose to squander his dreams | |
| Stopped believing in himself | |
| Become prodigal with his life | |
| Make impossible shit right with... | |
| Gangties, crime, lies | |
| Erase wise, woeful words of | |
| Mother Replaced them with absurdities of others | |
| Who had also lost their way | |
| Played a different kind of street game now | |
| First Son plunged deep | |
| Speak streetfamily vows | |
| Espouse no causes but his own | |
| See, he couldn' t protect | |
| Mommy' s neck from | |
| Daddy' s grasp | |
| Or... protect | |
| Mommy' s ass from | |
| Daddy' s wrath | |
| Couldn' t shield her ears from... | |
| Daddy' s foulmouthed, liquorbreath jeers | |
| His only defenseserved be confidence | |
| Brown bottles housed his swift descent | |
| Phones called cops on block frequent for his shenanigans | |
| Now... Daddy and him twins in addiction | |
| Driven to falsehearted heavens and friends | |
| By liquefied demons | |
| Had become what he despised from | |
| Conception ' til | |
| End Destined for a demise | |
| Survived nine lives of staying high | |
| Conning, jewelrypawning, arrests, theft | |
| Womanizing... only for money, never for sex | |
| Bullet in chest, baseball bat to the head | |
| Left for dead | |
| So, eyes wide and glassy | |
| Speech... slowed and slurred | |
| Lips twitched with cakedup codeine candy | |
| And mouth corners one | |
| December 24th | |
| Mr. Hide and | |
| False Friend | |
| Took final ride to suburban supplier | |
| Shots were fired by the gray man | |
| With shaky hand | |
| But not shaky enough to miss... | |
| Hit... Lost | |
| Boy in back | |
| Socalled | |
| Friend runs for door | |
| Leaves First | |
| Son bloodborn | |
| Lying alone in blood on cold floor | |
| Death was the cause of... | |
| Returning to | |
| Innocence | |
| Lost... Baby ' | |
| Sis awake for dawn on | |
| Christmas morn | |
| To Mommy' s sobs and shakes | |
| Daddy' s silhouettes of regret | |
| All past, omitted, and absolved by lost | |
| As they clung to each other | |
| Knowing... |
| zuò qǔ : Ursula Rucker Ahmir Thompson Anthony Tidd | |
| zuò cí : Rucker, Thompson, Tidd | |
| feat. Ursula Rucker Ursula Rucker | |
| Muffled sound of fist on flesh | |
| Blows to chest | |
| No breath | |
| Air gasps | |
| You ain' t nothing but white trash, bitch! | |
| With each hit, each kick, each... broken rib | |
| Crack, Crack! | |
| Bones are crying | |
| Mommy' s crying and bleeding | |
| And pleading | |
| And then... | |
| Daddy wants to fuck | |
| Dick hard, swelled with power rush | |
| And as if all that wasn' t enough | |
| Mommy' s seven months heavy with birth | |
| As... Daddy grunts and cursed drunk nothings in her bloodied ear singing softly | |
| First... lullaby | |
| First... Son... will... ever... hear | |
| And never forget | |
| Mommy almost bled to death when she have him... finally | |
| She' d already lost... three | |
| Uterusbruised, shredded, and weak | |
| From being daily beat | |
| And Friday nights were the worse and... | |
| Daddy never came with flowers | |
| Instead he spent hours at some corner spot | |
| With some bar pop named | |
| Cookie Putting his thing down | |
| Soiling Mommy' s sheets with... | |
| Sweet... talk shit, | |
| Cookie' s cheap lipstick, | |
| Hair grease, sperm, and jezebel juice | |
| To hell with the good news that... | |
| He was a father for the first time | |
| His thirst for wine and women | |
| Clouded his vision... | |
| No warm welcome for mother and son | |
| Just... The rank smell of asscrack, funk, and cum | |
| But Mommy' s prayerful strengthher best defense | |
| She... burned the dirty linens | |
| Made a fresh bed | |
| Laid sleeping | |
| First Son down | |
| And never made a sound | |
| As she purged her scourge | |
| With birthblood and quiet tears | |
| Watching as her fears and love and sacrifice | |
| Lie there in his soft skin and new life | |
| Breathing, dreaming, fresh from | |
| God' s eye | |
| Mommy' s little survivor | |
| Like... her | |
| Mommy called crazy and scorned ' | |
| Cuz she two more born | |
| One boy soon after | |
| The girl much later and... | |
| Although they were both sung the same lullabies of hate | |
| Her... First | |
| Son, the first one | |
| Whose... wombworld was profaned | |
| Came of age playing street games | |
| With Stewie, | |
| Rezzie, and | |
| Little Brother ' | |
| Till his heart start to wither | |
| In pain and shame | |
| Blamed Mom for the wrong she let | |
| Daddy do to her | |
| And him... | |
| Let... sins of the | |
| Father cause his | |
| Innocence to wander | |
| Found out amongst thieves | |
| Chose to squander his dreams | |
| Stopped believing in himself | |
| Become prodigal with his life | |
| Make impossible shit right with... | |
| Gangties, crime, lies | |
| Erase wise, woeful words of | |
| Mother Replaced them with absurdities of others | |
| Who had also lost their way | |
| Played a different kind of street game now | |
| First Son plunged deep | |
| Speak streetfamily vows | |
| Espouse no causes but his own | |
| See, he couldn' t protect | |
| Mommy' s neck from | |
| Daddy' s grasp | |
| Or... protect | |
| Mommy' s ass from | |
| Daddy' s wrath | |
| Couldn' t shield her ears from... | |
| Daddy' s foulmouthed, liquorbreath jeers | |
| His only defenseserved be confidence | |
| Brown bottles housed his swift descent | |
| Phones called cops on block frequent for his shenanigans | |
| Now... Daddy and him twins in addiction | |
| Driven to falsehearted heavens and friends | |
| By liquefied demons | |
| Had become what he despised from | |
| Conception ' til | |
| End Destined for a demise | |
| Survived nine lives of staying high | |
| Conning, jewelrypawning, arrests, theft | |
| Womanizing... only for money, never for sex | |
| Bullet in chest, baseball bat to the head | |
| Left for dead | |
| So, eyes wide and glassy | |
| Speech... slowed and slurred | |
| Lips twitched with cakedup codeine candy | |
| And mouth corners one | |
| December 24th | |
| Mr. Hide and | |
| False Friend | |
| Took final ride to suburban supplier | |
| Shots were fired by the gray man | |
| With shaky hand | |
| But not shaky enough to miss... | |
| Hit... Lost | |
| Boy in back | |
| Socalled | |
| Friend runs for door | |
| Leaves First | |
| Son bloodborn | |
| Lying alone in blood on cold floor | |
| Death was the cause of... | |
| Returning to | |
| Innocence | |
| Lost... Baby ' | |
| Sis awake for dawn on | |
| Christmas morn | |
| To Mommy' s sobs and shakes | |
| Daddy' s silhouettes of regret | |
| All past, omitted, and absolved by lost | |
| As they clung to each other | |
| Knowing... |
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