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
Josh Pyke

Middle Of The Hill

 

Middle Of The Hill

(album: Memories & Dust - 2007)


When I was a kid I grew up in a house on a hill
Not the top, not the bottom, but the middle
And I still remember where I cracked my head
In the vacant lot, there's a row of tiny houses there now
And we used to light fires in the gutters
And I could cool my head on the concrete steps
But the girl down the street hit my sister on the head
With a stick and we hid behind my father
As he knocked on the parents' door
To tell them what she did
But the parents were drunk so they really didn't give a shit

And the girl down the street said a dog couldn't bark
'Cause a man with an axe cut its voicebox out
But my older sister told me that it prob'ly wasn't true
And I believe what she said 'cause she took me by the hand
One time when a coupla men drove down the hill in a white van
Said there was a phone box filled with money 'round the corner
And I woulda gone along but she took me by the hand
To the house in the middle of the hill
In the middle of the hill, in the middle of the hill

And my mother knew the words to a lot of different songs
And we'd always sing the harmonies, yeah we'd sing along
She had cold, cold hands when the fever hit
And then the noises that the trains made sounded like people in my head
And the stories that the ceiling told
Through the pictures and the grains in the pine-wood boards
And let me stay outside 'til the sky went red
And I could cool my head on the concrete steps
And you could never really see the top from the bottom
But I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I got 'em
And you could never really see the top from the bottom

I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I got 'em
I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I got 'em
I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I got 'em
I don't pay enough attention to the good things when I got 'em

Fatto

Hai aggiunto tutte le parole sconosciute di questa canzone?