| 作曲 : Burch | |
| I am in flight, into the night, with wings not hands, over marching bands. | |
| And now I see, rapid yet complete, mistakes of the past: an ugly story | |
| And then, on Wednesday, I careen, explode! | |
| The onlookers say: "God bless his soul" | |
| And it was such absurdity, she sings so sweetly, holds my hand, and ends it neatly. | |
| Angels and vultures manned crafts, lost control, stories got old. |
| zuo qu : Burch | |
| I am in flight, into the night, with wings not hands, over marching bands. | |
| And now I see, rapid yet complete, mistakes of the past: an ugly story | |
| And then, on Wednesday, I careen, explode! | |
| The onlookers say: " God bless his soul" | |
| And it was such absurdity, she sings so sweetly, holds my hand, and ends it neatly. | |
| Angels and vultures manned crafts, lost control, stories got old. |
| zuò qǔ : Burch | |
| I am in flight, into the night, with wings not hands, over marching bands. | |
| And now I see, rapid yet complete, mistakes of the past: an ugly story | |
| And then, on Wednesday, I careen, explode! | |
| The onlookers say: " God bless his soul" | |
| And it was such absurdity, she sings so sweetly, holds my hand, and ends it neatly. | |
| Angels and vultures manned crafts, lost control, stories got old. |
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