The Wishbone歌词

Driven through by her own sword
Summer died last night, alone.
Even the ghosts huddle up for warmth.
Autumn has come to my hometown
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Friendly voices, dead and gone,
singing, Star of the country down...
(even the ghosts help raise the barn,
here, now, in my hometown)
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-when, out of the massing
that bodes and bides, in the cold west,
flew a waxwing, who froze
and died against my breast!
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And all the while, rain,
like a weed in the tide,
swans and lists,
down on the gossiping lawn,
saying, "tsk, tsk, tsk".
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I may have changed. It's hard to gauge.
Time won't account for how I've aged.
Would I could tie your lying tongue,
who says that leaving keeps you young.
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I have got no control
over my heart, over my mind.
Over the hills, the rainclouds roll.
I'll winter here, wait for a sign.
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To cast myself out, over the water,
riven like a wishbone.
You'd hardly guess
I was my own mother's daughter;
I ain't naturally given to roam.
I lay low, when I return,
and I move like a gurney
whose wheels are squeaking,
alone, here in my home,
and I laugh, when you speak of my pleasure-seeking
among the tall pines,
along the lay-lines.
Here, where the loon keens.
There, where the moon leans.
There, where I know my violent love lays down,
in a row of silent, dove-gray days.
Here, in a row of silent, dove-gray days.
Wherever I go, I am snowbound
by thoughts of him whom I would sun.
I loved them all, one by one.
Cannot gain ground, cannot outrun;
but time marches along.
You can't always stick around.
But, when the final count is done,
I will be in my hometown.
I will be in my hometown.
[00:-1.00] 编辑于2011/11/25更新