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

Suono


Interfaccia


Livello di difficoltà


Accento



linguaggio dell'interfaccia

it

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Gestione dei Cookie   |   Supporto   |   FAQ
1
registrati/accedi
Lyrkit

donare

5$

Lyrkit

donare

10$

Lyrkit

donare

20$

Lyrkit

E/o supportarmi sui social. reti:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Andrew Bird

Way Out West

 

Way Out West

(album: The Swimming Hour - 2001)


Elder Green is dead and gone
Lost his way going to town
Don't know who he is or what he's done
But it sure sounds sweet rolling off the tongue
Yeah it sure sounds sweet rolling off the tongue

If I was in an old hotel
That happened to be on fire
Maybe I'd jump or
Maybe I'd reconsider
Then I'd climb a little higher

Like an oily rag
In a dusty corner
Like a box of matches near an open flame
I'd jump 18 stories from a burning fire
Sooner than I'd face this world of shame
Yeah I'd skip this town and
Jump a westbound train

Take these fingerlings from my fingers
Spoken with your breath
With white-washed eyes
And flies that linger
Seems rather forlorn and bereft

I said where you going with that sack on your shoulder Willie
As if I couldn't have guessed
He says I'm gonna get the hell
Out of Slag Valley and take a little stroll way out west

If I was in an old hotel
That happened to be on fire
Maybe I'd jump or
Maybe I'd reconsider
Then I'd climb a little higher

Like an oily rag
In a dusty corner
Like a box of matches near an open flame
I'd get so far away
From that old matchbox hotel
Man I'd skip this town and
Jump a westbound train
Anything to get away from this shame

Take these fingerlings from my fingers
Spoken with your breath
With white-washed eyes
And flies that linger
Seems rather forlorn and bereft

I said where you going with that sack on your shoulder Willie
As if I couldn't have guessed
He says I'm gonna get the hell
Out of Slag Valley and take a little stroll way out west

Fatto

Hai aggiunto tutte le parole sconosciute di questa canzone?