歌曲 | Flowers for Grandma |
歌手 | Claire Hamill |
专辑 | One House Left Standing |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Coles, Hamill | |
They'd capture live pulsating plants | |
And put them by her bed | |
She loved to feel, caress and touch | |
She claimed they heard each word she said | |
She'd watch them writhing in their pots | |
She'd watch, and they'd watch too | |
Their tentative long writhing stalks | |
That tried to leave their bedside zoo | |
If only she could understand | |
She would not be so keen | |
That plants and flowers | |
Looked alive can turn out very mean | |
And then one silent summers day | |
They found her lying dead | |
With a large geranium's pale green stalk | |
Lying gently round her head | |
Her relatives soon gathered around | |
Her uncles and her aunts | |
To see the only woman that | |
Was murdered by her plants | |
They buried her amidst the tune | |
Of weeping summer showers | |
And children came to view her tomb | |
And on it put dead flowers |
zuo qu : Coles, Hamill | |
They' d capture live pulsating plants | |
And put them by her bed | |
She loved to feel, caress and touch | |
She claimed they heard each word she said | |
She' d watch them writhing in their pots | |
She' d watch, and they' d watch too | |
Their tentative long writhing stalks | |
That tried to leave their bedside zoo | |
If only she could understand | |
She would not be so keen | |
That plants and flowers | |
Looked alive can turn out very mean | |
And then one silent summers day | |
They found her lying dead | |
With a large geranium' s pale green stalk | |
Lying gently round her head | |
Her relatives soon gathered around | |
Her uncles and her aunts | |
To see the only woman that | |
Was murdered by her plants | |
They buried her amidst the tune | |
Of weeping summer showers | |
And children came to view her tomb | |
And on it put dead flowers |
zuò qǔ : Coles, Hamill | |
They' d capture live pulsating plants | |
And put them by her bed | |
She loved to feel, caress and touch | |
She claimed they heard each word she said | |
She' d watch them writhing in their pots | |
She' d watch, and they' d watch too | |
Their tentative long writhing stalks | |
That tried to leave their bedside zoo | |
If only she could understand | |
She would not be so keen | |
That plants and flowers | |
Looked alive can turn out very mean | |
And then one silent summers day | |
They found her lying dead | |
With a large geranium' s pale green stalk | |
Lying gently round her head | |
Her relatives soon gathered around | |
Her uncles and her aunts | |
To see the only woman that | |
Was murdered by her plants | |
They buried her amidst the tune | |
Of weeping summer showers | |
And children came to view her tomb | |
And on it put dead flowers |