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  • 作词 : Tibet
    And i drown a little more every day
    The wind blows so slowly now
    The trees are dry dead
    Walls to me they cannot hold back the storm any longer
    It will break around us first
    If there's a god
    If there's a god
    When i stand there at the piled bloodcamp
    Again i flick open the inner eye
    If you too open your eyes you shall see
    The entire sky filled with weeping angels
    The entire heaven filled with weeping angels
    And the central sun and sum of all
    God too weeping
    We shall be judged
    So anyway so your garden is most full green
    And the many birds alight on its budding branches
    And anyway the lambs gambol
    And the children sing yours perhaps
    Or mine god
    And anyway
    So anyway we fall beneath the waves
    And hope to be remembered anyway
    Anyway the bluebirds wait over the white cliffs of Dover
    So anyway they to fall
    The grass dies the moss goes the chalk chips away
    Then below that the rocks grain away
    This is the sound of the earth dying so nothing new
    So anyway you may wait under a tree
    Or at the foot of that hill
    Anyway
  • 作词 : Tibet
    And i drown a little more every day
    The wind blows so slowly now
    The trees are dry dead
    Walls to me they cannot hold back the storm any longer
    It will break around us first
    If there's a god
    If there's a god
    When i stand there at the piled bloodcamp
    Again i flick open the inner eye
    If you too open your eyes you shall see
    The entire sky filled with weeping angels
    The entire heaven filled with weeping angels
    And the central sun and sum of all
    God too weeping
    We shall be judged
    So anyway so your garden is most full green
    And the many birds alight on its budding branches
    And anyway the lambs gambol
    And the children sing yours perhaps
    Or mine god
    And anyway
    So anyway we fall beneath the waves
    And hope to be remembered anyway
    Anyway the bluebirds wait over the white cliffs of Dover
    So anyway they to fall
    The grass dies the moss goes the chalk chips away
    Then below that the rocks grain away
    This is the sound of the earth dying so nothing new
    So anyway you may wait under a tree
    Or at the foot of that hill
    Anyway