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

Звук


Интерфейс


Уровень сложности


Акцент



язык интерфейса

ru

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
зарегистрироваться / войти
Lyrkit

донат

5$

Lyrkit

донат

10$

Lyrkit

донат

20$

Lyrkit

Или поддержи меня в соц. сетях:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Fionn Regan

100 Acres Of Sycamore

 

100 Acres Of Sycamore

(альбом: 100 Acres Of Sycamore - 2011)


We'll go to knuckle to knuckle, or buckle against buckle
Your nostrils will flare as you push out the air
Rise up, Brother
Rise up from the trappings of flesh and holdings of skin

We'll steer the car towards the reservoir
And poison our senses as nightfall commences
Rise up, Brother
Rise up from the monotony that is hemming you in

Tonight while you sleep you'll be grinding your teeth
Put your head at the North and the South at your feet
Rise up, Brother
Rise up from the pack who are baying and clawing for blood

Oooo-oooo
Who's there?
How can you hear the door
I'm one-hundred acres of sycamore
Oh flash my hand past your eyes in the air
But it won't break your stare
Is there anyone there
But the four black winds blowing through the eaves of your mind?

If he darkens your doorway, you come and tell me
Where he resides, text me or bell me
Rise up, Sister
I'll make sure he never darkens your doorway again

Don't be a stranger to me anymore
I'll hold a lantern, put your heel on the shore
Rise up, Sister
Rise up from the black ships that sail through the swan of your heart

Oooo-oooo
Who's there?
How can you hear the door
I'm one-hundred acres of sycamore
Oh flash my hand past your eyes in the air
But it won't break your stare
Is there anyone there
But the four black winds blowing through the eaves of your mind?

Those weasels in the weeds await to jump us
One had a screwdriver and one had a cutlass
We counted the beats between thunder and lightning
One-thousand and two, one-thousand and three
It's coming in from the Sea

Put your hand on my leg
Kilometres in blue and miles in black
Lose my eyes in the bathroom
Arm-wrestle, East, West, place brass-tack
Bite my lip in the car, midnight ringing
Unravel on the gravel, phone off, walk
Search for the lighter in my pocket
Go inner, and inner, and bolt, and book
Let the four black winds begone from the eaves of the mind

готово

Ты добавил себе все незнакомые слова из этой песни?