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

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
John Hartford

Landscape Grown Cold

 

Landscape Grown Cold

(album: The Love Album - 1968)


The trees standing naked
The ground underfoot
Is a dark cellar, cool
The battleship skies
So heavy my shoulders droop
It's a lean kind of day
That I sometimes pass through

The vines are like veins
On the old village wall
Where the grass turns to white
And way down the road
I see smoke from another world
In a room I'm not welcome
Removed from my life

I sit in the ditch
And I dig in the sand
With the heel of my sole
Sink down in my coat collar
Back to the wind that blows
Insane by myself
In a landscape grown cold

The painted tin sign
Flaps back in the wind
Where the green bottles lay
And a window of boards
Facing hollow upon the dust
Empty chairs sit in judgment
Accusing the day

I sit in the ditch
And I dig in the sand
With the heel of my sole
Sink down in my coat collar
Back to the wind that blows
Insane by myself
In a landscape grown cold

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?