歌曲 | Pierrot Lunaire |
歌手 | Momus |
专辑 | Oskar Tennis Champion |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Momus | |
The string to his head | |
The boss makes it nod | |
The string to his mouth | |
His mum pulls for food | |
The string to his soul | |
It leads up to God | |
But who controls | |
The string to his cock? | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I'll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If he would ever notice | |
If he would even care | |
I'm just so bored ..... | |
Football on a Sunday | |
Drinks after work | |
Tuesday a D.J. | |
Friday a jerk | |
And what really matters? | |
And who really cares? | |
My lover's a puppet | |
Pierrot Lunaire | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I'll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If he would ever notice | |
If he could even care | |
I'm so bored with Pierrot Lunaire | |
Others have boyfriends | |
Boyfriends who care | |
Of flesh and blood | |
Not string and air | |
They lay them on beds | |
They whisper, "je t'aime" | |
They take off their clothes | |
And make love to them | |
One day I'll cut my arms off | |
And send them to him | |
I'll sever my legs | |
Suspend them from strings | |
I'll be Polcinella | |
We'll hang out so close | |
My wooden cheek | |
To his wooden nose | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I'll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
As if he'd even notice | |
As if he'd ever care | |
I'm so in love Pierrot Lunaire | |
Lysergic Lysander | |
Nodding his head | |
A glittery panda | |
That needs to be fed | |
A Cantonese opera | |
Performed at the zoo | |
These foolish things | |
Remind me of you | |
And the puppet girls kiss you | |
Up there on the moon | |
They must know I miss you | |
Please come back soon | |
In the depths of midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I'm on fire | |
Pierrot Lunaire | |
Au clair de la luna | |
I know you'll never care | |
I'll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If you would ever notice | |
If you could even care | |
I'm in love with Pierrot Lunaire | |
I know you can't cry so don't even try | |
When you've cried as much as me, the tears roll by | |
The years rain down, the tears don't dry | |
They dangle from your chin like a memory | |
I passed you on the stair, you're like, I swear | |
Who's been sleeping in baby bear's lair? | |
How's Cruel Frederick, is anybody there? | |
The Nosferatu puppet with corkscrew hair? | |
The nest of baby spiders underneath the chair? | |
All the survivors of the massacre | |
All the little friends of Henry Darger | |
Living large but dreaming larger | |
Patience is a virtue and virtue is a grace | |
And Grace is a little girl who slaps your face | |
I know you can't cry so don't even try | |
When you've cried as much as me, the tears roll by | |
The years rain down, the tears don't dry | |
They dangle from your chin like a memory | |
All the little tears going down the drain | |
Here we go again |
zuo ci : Momus | |
The string to his head | |
The boss makes it nod | |
The string to his mouth | |
His mum pulls for food | |
The string to his soul | |
It leads up to God | |
But who controls | |
The string to his cock? | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If he would ever notice | |
If he would even care | |
I' m just so bored ..... | |
Football on a Sunday | |
Drinks after work | |
Tuesday a D. J. | |
Friday a jerk | |
And what really matters? | |
And who really cares? | |
My lover' s a puppet | |
Pierrot Lunaire | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If he would ever notice | |
If he could even care | |
I' m so bored with Pierrot Lunaire | |
Others have boyfriends | |
Boyfriends who care | |
Of flesh and blood | |
Not string and air | |
They lay them on beds | |
They whisper, " je t' aime" | |
They take off their clothes | |
And make love to them | |
One day I' ll cut my arms off | |
And send them to him | |
I' ll sever my legs | |
Suspend them from strings | |
I' ll be Polcinella | |
We' ll hang out so close | |
My wooden cheek | |
To his wooden nose | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
As if he' d even notice | |
As if he' d ever care | |
I' m so in love Pierrot Lunaire | |
Lysergic Lysander | |
Nodding his head | |
A glittery panda | |
That needs to be fed | |
A Cantonese opera | |
Performed at the zoo | |
These foolish things | |
Remind me of you | |
And the puppet girls kiss you | |
Up there on the moon | |
They must know I miss you | |
Please come back soon | |
In the depths of midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' m on fire | |
Pierrot Lunaire | |
Au clair de la luna | |
I know you' ll never care | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If you would ever notice | |
If you could even care | |
I' m in love with Pierrot Lunaire | |
I know you can' t cry so don' t even try | |
When you' ve cried as much as me, the tears roll by | |
The years rain down, the tears don' t dry | |
They dangle from your chin like a memory | |
I passed you on the stair, you' re like, I swear | |
Who' s been sleeping in baby bear' s lair? | |
How' s Cruel Frederick, is anybody there? | |
The Nosferatu puppet with corkscrew hair? | |
The nest of baby spiders underneath the chair? | |
All the survivors of the massacre | |
All the little friends of Henry Darger | |
Living large but dreaming larger | |
Patience is a virtue and virtue is a grace | |
And Grace is a little girl who slaps your face | |
I know you can' t cry so don' t even try | |
When you' ve cried as much as me, the tears roll by | |
The years rain down, the tears don' t dry | |
They dangle from your chin like a memory | |
All the little tears going down the drain | |
Here we go again |
zuò cí : Momus | |
The string to his head | |
The boss makes it nod | |
The string to his mouth | |
His mum pulls for food | |
The string to his soul | |
It leads up to God | |
But who controls | |
The string to his cock? | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If he would ever notice | |
If he would even care | |
I' m just so bored ..... | |
Football on a Sunday | |
Drinks after work | |
Tuesday a D. J. | |
Friday a jerk | |
And what really matters? | |
And who really cares? | |
My lover' s a puppet | |
Pierrot Lunaire | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If he would ever notice | |
If he could even care | |
I' m so bored with Pierrot Lunaire | |
Others have boyfriends | |
Boyfriends who care | |
Of flesh and blood | |
Not string and air | |
They lay them on beds | |
They whisper, " je t' aime" | |
They take off their clothes | |
And make love to them | |
One day I' ll cut my arms off | |
And send them to him | |
I' ll sever my legs | |
Suspend them from strings | |
I' ll be Polcinella | |
We' ll hang out so close | |
My wooden cheek | |
To his wooden nose | |
In the bleak midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
As if he' d even notice | |
As if he' d ever care | |
I' m so in love Pierrot Lunaire | |
Lysergic Lysander | |
Nodding his head | |
A glittery panda | |
That needs to be fed | |
A Cantonese opera | |
Performed at the zoo | |
These foolish things | |
Remind me of you | |
And the puppet girls kiss you | |
Up there on the moon | |
They must know I miss you | |
Please come back soon | |
In the depths of midwinter | |
At the bottom of the stair | |
I' m on fire | |
Pierrot Lunaire | |
Au clair de la luna | |
I know you' ll never care | |
I' ll set myself on fire | |
Pour petrol in my hair | |
If you would ever notice | |
If you could even care | |
I' m in love with Pierrot Lunaire | |
I know you can' t cry so don' t even try | |
When you' ve cried as much as me, the tears roll by | |
The years rain down, the tears don' t dry | |
They dangle from your chin like a memory | |
I passed you on the stair, you' re like, I swear | |
Who' s been sleeping in baby bear' s lair? | |
How' s Cruel Frederick, is anybody there? | |
The Nosferatu puppet with corkscrew hair? | |
The nest of baby spiders underneath the chair? | |
All the survivors of the massacre | |
All the little friends of Henry Darger | |
Living large but dreaming larger | |
Patience is a virtue and virtue is a grace | |
And Grace is a little girl who slaps your face | |
I know you can' t cry so don' t even try | |
When you' ve cried as much as me, the tears roll by | |
The years rain down, the tears don' t dry | |
They dangle from your chin like a memory | |
All the little tears going down the drain | |
Here we go again |