00:00/00:00
外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/f4349c97833e9f6583f1914d299ac2df.mp3
点击复制Love was a promise made of smoke
In a frozen copse of trees
A bone cold and older than our bodies
Slowly floating in the sea
Every morning there were planes,
The shiny blades of pagan angels in our father's sky
Every evening I would watch her hold the pillow
Tight against her hollows, her unholy child
I was still a beggar shaking out my stolen coat
Among the angry cemetery leaves
When they caught the king beneath the borrowed car
Righteous drunk and fumbling for the royal keys
Love was our father’s flag
And sewn like a shank in a cake on our leather boots
A beautiful feather floating down
To where the birds had shit our empty chapel pews
Every morning there was one more machine
To mock our ever waning patience at the well
Every evening she’d descend the mountain
Stealing socks and singing something good
Where all their horses fell
Like a snake within the wilted garden wall
I’d hint to her every possibility (So many possibilities)
While with his gun, the pagan angel rose to say,
“My love is one made to break every bended knee”
Bended the knee
Bended the knee