歌词网

Whistling Girl

	作曲 : Dee
	A whistling girl
	Among his flock of sheep
	In a flow of words
	Lay breathing backward rest assured
	Of Elijah and God's birds
	It will fall to us
	It will fall to us
	Inside the home the folk pine grow
	Where hearts are fire sparks are thrown
	It is all that glitters
	This terrible weakness
	It falls to us
	It falls to us
	From his holy hill
	And it falls to us
	Yes it falls to us
	By his perfect will
	Through the open windows of the soul tonight
	His yoke is easy and his burden light
	Kiss the sun lest he be angry
	And you perish in the way
	The rivers of the sky are dry
	And rolled up like a scroll
	Down below we tend to the forgetting
	Forgetting what we know
	The sun slips from your shoulder
	As you enter in the wood
	Without thought of thorns
	Without thought of thorns
	And it falls to us
	It falls to us
	From his holy hill
	It will falls to us
	Yes it falls to us
	By his perfect will
	Through the open windows of your soul tonight
	His yoke is easy and his burden light
	Kiss the sun lest he be angry
	And you perish in the way

	zuò qǔ : Dee
	A whistling girl
	Among his flock of sheep
	In a flow of words
	Lay breathing backward rest assured
	Of Elijah and God' s birds
	It will fall to us
	It will fall to us
	Inside the home the folk pine grow
	Where hearts are fire sparks are thrown
	It is all that glitters
	This terrible weakness
	It falls to us
	It falls to us
	From his holy hill
	And it falls to us
	Yes it falls to us
	By his perfect will
	Through the open windows of the soul tonight
	His yoke is easy and his burden light
	Kiss the sun lest he be angry
	And you perish in the way
	The rivers of the sky are dry
	And rolled up like a scroll
	Down below we tend to the forgetting
	Forgetting what we know
	The sun slips from your shoulder
	As you enter in the wood
	Without thought of thorns
	Without thought of thorns
	And it falls to us
	It falls to us
	From his holy hill
	It will falls to us
	Yes it falls to us
	By his perfect will
	Through the open windows of your soul tonight
	His yoke is easy and his burden light
	Kiss the sun lest he be angry
	And you perish in the way