作词 : Elvis Costello 作曲 : Elvis Costello Hear silver trumpets will trill in Arabic streets of Seville Oranges roll in the gutter And you pick them up And peel back the skin To the red fruit within
But the flavor is... Tart And the flavor is... Tart Is it something you crave? And you say that you only feel bitterness When you know it's a lie, lie, lie...
Wild with a blackberry bush There were blossoms of cherries to crush There, at the edge of the asphalt tempting fingertips They stain your hands, press too hard They'll color your lips...
But the flavor is... Tart And the flavor is... Tart
Is it something you crave? 'Cos you say that you only feel bitterness Would it kill you to show us a little sweetness?
Repeat chorus
Odd, where nothing else grows It was something like love that she chose Always a creature of habit When pity would do She wore down that heel with no feeling She kept on her shoes
Repeat chorus
Nylon was hung from a peg And a kohl black seam ran down her leg Fishermen look for their nets And send their regrets The bug lay there broken She spoke: "Is this some kind of joke?"
But the flavor is... Tart
作词 : Elvis Costello 作曲 : Elvis Costello Hear silver trumpets will trill in Arabic streets of Seville Oranges roll in the gutter And you pick them up And peel back the skin To the red fruit within
But the flavor is... Tart And the flavor is... Tart Is it something you crave? And you say that you only feel bitterness When you know it's a lie, lie, lie...
Wild with a blackberry bush There were blossoms of cherries to crush There, at the edge of the asphalt tempting fingertips They stain your hands, press too hard They'll color your lips...
But the flavor is... Tart And the flavor is... Tart
Is it something you crave? 'Cos you say that you only feel bitterness Would it kill you to show us a little sweetness?
Repeat chorus
Odd, where nothing else grows It was something like love that she chose Always a creature of habit When pity would do She wore down that heel with no feeling She kept on her shoes
Repeat chorus
Nylon was hung from a peg And a kohl black seam ran down her leg Fishermen look for their nets And send their regrets The bug lay there broken She spoke: "Is this some kind of joke?"
