Eurus - The Oh Hellos.lrc

LRC歌词下载
[00:00.000] 作词 : Maggie Heath/Tyler Heath
[00:01.000] 作曲 : Tyler Heath/Maggie Heath
[00:25.895]Spinning that stone uphill again
[00:29.868]Like atonement for a bygone sin
[00:33.873]Under the weight of it, my bones
[00:38.148]Are cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind
[00:42.391]But Zeus and his pantheon of kin
[00:46.384]Take the first nine out of every ten
[00:50.384]Minas, like lightning changing hands
[00:54.653]It all returns back to his pockets, in the end
[00:57.827]You can't take any gold or rings further than the grave
[01:02.616]Nothing we make can we bring
[01:05.798]But still the bait hanging from the string is calling my name
[01:10.057]And like the wind it slips again
[01:13.254]Out of my fingers
[01:23.873]As Fortuna sits idly by
[01:28.397]I spin her wheel with all my might
[01:32.104]Crushing my kin for warring-wage
[01:36.367]Minted from the ivory of your tooth and eye
[01:40.374]Under the table where she dines
[01:44.359]I sit hungry with my mouth foamed white
[01:48.614]Fighting for crumbs that trickle down
[01:52.324]As she finishes her cake, then takes a bite from mine
[01:55.793]You can't take any gold or rings further than the grave
[02:00.859]Nothing we make can we bring
[02:03.790]But still the bait hanging from the string is calling my name
[02:08.040]And like the wind it slips again
[02:10.958]Out of my fingers
文本歌词
作词 : Maggie Heath/Tyler Heath
作曲 : Tyler Heath/Maggie Heath
Spinning that stone uphill again
Like atonement for a bygone sin
Under the weight of it, my bones
Are cracking like a dry branch in a westward wind
But Zeus and his pantheon of kin
Take the first nine out of every ten
Minas, like lightning changing hands
It all returns back to his pockets, in the end
You can't take any gold or rings further than the grave
Nothing we make can we bring
But still the bait hanging from the string is calling my name
And like the wind it slips again
Out of my fingers
As Fortuna sits idly by
I spin her wheel with all my might
Crushing my kin for warring-wage
Minted from the ivory of your tooth and eye
Under the table where she dines
I sit hungry with my mouth foamed white
Fighting for crumbs that trickle down
As she finishes her cake, then takes a bite from mine
You can't take any gold or rings further than the grave
Nothing we make can we bring
But still the bait hanging from the string is calling my name
And like the wind it slips again
Out of my fingers