Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

صوت


واجهه المستخدم


مستوى الصعوبة


لهجة



لغة الواجهة

ar

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
التسجيل / تسجيل الدخول
Lyrkit

يتبرع

5$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

10$

Lyrkit

يتبرع

20$

Lyrkit

و/أو ادعمني في مواقع التواصل الاجتماعي. الشبكات:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Darren Hayes

The Tuning Of Violins

 

The Tuning Of Violins

(الألبوم: This Delicate Thing We've Made - 2007)


Daylight breaks, and the black birds call
And the market stalls are all filling up, spilling over the streets.
High above, over Notting Hill
I am floating still, in a wooden chair, with our restless dog.

Been away so long, I almost forgot how time and space
Cannot replace this feeling of flying over things.
Now you're falling awake, your sleepy face begins to register
That I'm coming home yeah, I'm coming home to you.

[Chorus:]
On a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.
Over bluebells, over Blackheath.
Calling your name, I will float through your window.

Major third, or a minor seventh
I'm a violin tuned a little sharp, tuned a little below.

Coming around the bend, the hallway ends.
The chair it dips, and then it bends
And it has wings for legs.
Now you're deep in a dream, the sheets and pillowcases seem to overtake your head.
I'm at the foot of our bed.

[Chorus x2]

Break through the silence, the gulf that's between us.
Take all the heartache and bullshit that builds up.
And we will unravel, unravel the moments.
Yeah we will unravel, unravel the moments.

Oh...

On a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.
Over bluebells, over Blackheath.
Calling your name, I will come to your window.

On a Sunday only we know, where the sunlight and the wind blows.
On a Sunday only we know,
I'll be calling your name as I float through your window.

منتهي

هل قمت بإضافة كل الكلمات غير المألوفة من هذه الأغنية؟