[00:00.00] 作词 : Jonathan Wolf
[00:01.00] 作曲 : Jonathan Wolf
[00:17.17]At your house the smell of our still living human bodies and oven gas
[00:24.57]You pray to nothing out loud
[00:27.95]Two first names and an ampersand
[00:31.27]Embroidered proudly on a kitchen towel
[00:34.74]You're a beautiful and violent work
[00:38.75]With a skinny neck of a chinese bird
[00:42.33]In a fading ancient painting
[00:45.97]And if you're in heaven waiting
[00:49.03]You made it there fighting
[00:51.04]The tightest kite string
[00:52.63]In a bad storm with lightning
[00:56.82]And now these few presidents
[01:01.08]Frowning in my pocket can persuade no god
[01:08.36]To let me let you talkoh
[01:12.68]These few presidents
[01:15.76]Frowning in my pocket
[01:19.52]Can persuade no god to let me let you off
[01:27.55]Even though I haven't seen you in years
[01:31.00]Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
[01:36.40]
[01:40.92]I thought I had a peble in my sock
[01:44.74]I pulled it off and shook out a wasp
[01:48.12]It stumbled out lostand without a pause
[01:51.95]I'm stung as I wasstill I stomped it
[01:55.28]I thoughtthere is no paved street worth
[01:57.91]Of your perfect scandanavian feet
[02:01.93]My crooked chinese fingers groped
[02:07.31]The machinery of your throat
[02:13.80]And now these few presidents
[02:17.68]Frowning in my pocket can persuade no god
[02:25.01]To let me let you talkoh
[02:29.59]These few presidents drowning in my pocket
[02:36.30]Can persuade no god to let me let you off
[02:44.27]Even though I haven't seen you in years
[02:47.22]Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere

作词 : Jonathan Wolf
作曲 : Jonathan Wolf
At your house the smell of our still living human bodies and oven gas
You pray to nothing out loud
Two first names and an ampersand
Embroidered proudly on a kitchen towel
You're a beautiful and violent work
With a skinny neck of a chinese bird
In a fading ancient painting
And if you're in heaven waiting
You made it there fighting
The tightest kite string
In a bad storm with lightning
And now these few presidents
Frowning in my pocket can persuade no god
To let me let you talkoh
These few presidents
Frowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god to let me let you off
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere
I thought I had a peble in my sock
I pulled it off and shook out a wasp
It stumbled out lostand without a pause
I'm stung as I wasstill I stomped it
I thoughtthere is no paved street worth
Of your perfect scandanavian feet
My crooked chinese fingers groped
The machinery of your throat
And now these few presidents
Frowning in my pocket can persuade no god
To let me let you talkoh
These few presidents drowning in my pocket
Can persuade no god to let me let you off
Even though I haven't seen you in years
Yours is a funeral I'd fly to from anywhere