歌曲 | Roots... |
歌手 | Devendra Banhart |
专辑 | Oh Me Oh My... |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Banhart | |
When the roots of the tree are as cold as can be | |
When the wind and the sea are the moth and the bee | |
When the rays of the sun lick your skin with its tongue, | |
And the grass with its green | |
And the grass with its green | |
And the shine with its sheen | |
And the shine with its sheen | |
And the trains with their tracks, | |
And the spines with their backs, | |
And your sway with its slow | |
And the wind with its blow, | |
And your scream with its soul, I don't play rock and roll! | |
And the people with their lungs | |
And the people with their paws. | |
If the sky were a stone made of lips made of bone, | |
count my teeth to keep the time. |
zuo ci : Banhart | |
When the roots of the tree are as cold as can be | |
When the wind and the sea are the moth and the bee | |
When the rays of the sun lick your skin with its tongue, | |
And the grass with its green | |
And the grass with its green | |
And the shine with its sheen | |
And the shine with its sheen | |
And the trains with their tracks, | |
And the spines with their backs, | |
And your sway with its slow | |
And the wind with its blow, | |
And your scream with its soul, I don' t play rock and roll! | |
And the people with their lungs | |
And the people with their paws. | |
If the sky were a stone made of lips made of bone, | |
count my teeth to keep the time. |
zuò cí : Banhart | |
When the roots of the tree are as cold as can be | |
When the wind and the sea are the moth and the bee | |
When the rays of the sun lick your skin with its tongue, | |
And the grass with its green | |
And the grass with its green | |
And the shine with its sheen | |
And the shine with its sheen | |
And the trains with their tracks, | |
And the spines with their backs, | |
And your sway with its slow | |
And the wind with its blow, | |
And your scream with its soul, I don' t play rock and roll! | |
And the people with their lungs | |
And the people with their paws. | |
If the sky were a stone made of lips made of bone, | |
count my teeth to keep the time. |