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Dealer歌词

歌曲名: Dealer  歌手: Scott Walker  所属专辑: 《Chillout Moods [Box Set]》

介绍:《Dealer》 是 Scott Walker 演唱的歌曲,该歌曲收录在《Chillout Moods [Box Set]》专辑中,如果您觉得好听的话,就把歌词分享给您的朋友共同聆听,一起支持歌手Scott Walker吧!

Dealer

The windows are ringing
shaking Night-nites for angels
rattling throats up and down on a beam.
Cooling the hearts
cooling the plasma
keeping ice junkies packed hard on a seam
The other side of a prowler
the dead still search the living.
At least there we did not not fail.
Coming to in the overcast
tracks are still flowing.
At least there he does not wail.
Psalms of your hands
sung into the lateness
move a circuit on the white
and he can't feel a thing.
Gone always alone to all you are never
he climbs into your mouth
when the windows ring.
The windows are ringing
shaking dead men for angels
Hissing brains boiling up
press't to the bone
uncoils the wire whole night long
bumping out thru the eye in knots.
Sweet hot numbers
sweet hots
bumping out thru the eye
on a wire of knots.
Sweet hot numbers
sweet hots
bumping out thru the eye
on a wire of knots.
Psalms of your hands
sung into the lateness
move a circuit on the white
and he can't feel a thing.
Gone always alone to all you are never
he climbs into your mouth
when the windows ring.

DealerLRC歌词

The windows are ringing
shaking Night-nites for angels
rattling throats up and down on a beam.
Cooling the hearts
cooling the plasma
keeping ice junkies packed hard on a seam
The other side of a prowler
the dead still search the living.
At least there we did not not fail.
Coming to in the overcast
tracks are still flowing.
At least there he does not wail.
Psalms of your hands
sung into the lateness
move a circuit on the white
and he can't feel a thing.
Gone always alone to all you are never
he climbs into your mouth
when the windows ring.
The windows are ringing
shaking dead men for angels
Hissing brains boiling up
press't to the bone
uncoils the wire whole night long
bumping out thru the eye in knots.
Sweet hot numbers
sweet hots
bumping out thru the eye
on a wire of knots.
Sweet hot numbers
sweet hots
bumping out thru the eye
on a wire of knots.
Psalms of your hands
sung into the lateness
move a circuit on the white
and he can't feel a thing.
Gone always alone to all you are never
he climbs into your mouth
when the windows ring.

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