送交者: 允真 于 2010-12-27, 09:15:45:
回答: 下次再出去估计就是保外就医了. 由 bluesea 于 2010-12-27, 08:42:45:
搜来歌词如下：
cease
Blacktop pavement cover me
Like a Chemical Reaction or a steam roller
Spreading randomly
There's a distant buzz, and a low frequency
It tickles my ear, it rumbles under my feet
And it shakes the leaves off of every tree, violently
What pretension!
Everlasting peace
Everything must cease
Institution of the Hill
Like a beacon in the mind of an ancestor
To ignite a people's will
There's a shadowed stain on the west facade
It has spread like decay to enshroud the fraud
And the descendants find it oh so odd
Oh so odd
What pretension!
Everlasting peace
Everything must cease
Grave memorial hewn white stone
Like the comforting caress of a mother
Or a friend you've always known
It evokes such pain and significance
What was once is reduced to remembrance
And the generations pass without recompense
What pretension!
Everlasting peace
Everything must cease
don't be afraid to run
Down in the holler there's a thriving town
A treasure trove that makes the world go 'round,
When the city barons bring their legal papers and guns,
Oh darlin', don't be afraid to run
When we came to settle here we came to stay,
Maybe raise a family, earn a decent wage,
Now every public servant reeks of suspicion,
So darlin' don't be afraid to run
Darlin' don't be afraid to run,
And don't turn your back on the noonday sun,
Someday redemption will wash everyone,
But there's no telling when that day will come
So darlin' don't be afraid to run
Maybe we'll rendezvous out in nowheresville,
Or maybe we'll find each other runnin' still
Until we reach that auspicious liaison
Darlin' don't be afraid to run
Darlin' don't be afraid to run,
And don't turn your back on the noonday sun,
The people will greet you with derision,
You'll never be their model citizen
So darlin' don't be afraid to run
cold as the clay
Whispers of ancients buried by dust,
Echoes of ages in canyons of rust,
Is heaven so lonely? I'll know soon enough
Cold as the clay, dark as a mine,
Wasting away blood, sweat, and grime
Panning for gold, picking for dimes, lying in wait for better times
The tools of the trade lie shopworn and old
The skills of the master done died with his soul
And the worklike routine is so lonely and cold
Cold as the clay, dark as the mine,
Wasting away, blood, sweat and grime,
Panning for gold, picking for dimes, lying in wait for better times
The land was converted, the river was moved,
The village expanded, some say it's improved,
But the lingering feature is a grim attitude
Cold as the clay, dark as the mine,
Wasting away, blood, sweat and grime,
Panning for gold, picking for dimes, lying in wait for better times