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Bowerbirds
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Dark Horse
On the shore of the lake In the great upstate of New York Came the call of a loon Cold, cold, o'er a plume of smoke He spoke to my center He spoke of the future He sang, 'You, my friend, are alone, alone.'
We live with the cockroach And we split our cords of oak And keep this wood stove burning While the bitter winds are blowing We stow our words in the cellar So we never lose hope And keep this wood fire stoked While the bitter winds blow
Alone on the land 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 In the love of the dirt again There's a sharp, jagged winter At the center of my home Of my blood and bones That sleets and snows and makes me shiver But you, my heart, I will never know
We live with the cockroach And we split our cords of oak And keep this wood stove burning While the bitter winds are blowing We stow our words in the cellar So we never lose hope And keep this wood fire stoked While the bitter winds blow
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