| Song | Place Your Wind Against My Sails |
| Artist | Half-Handed Cloud |
| Album | Halos + Lassos |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Ringhofer | |
| I'll set nothing vile before my eyes | |
| And while You're faithful | |
| Oh that faithless deeds | |
| Wouldn't static-cling | |
| Then I'd be grateful | |
| Hem my pants so long | |
| For growing into strong | |
| Down past the shoes | |
| I didn't roll them up | |
| To trip everyone up | |
| And then I blamed You | |
| Place Your wind against my sails | |
| Envelope that mails | |
| To a prisoner in jail | |
| Will I answer? | |
| Running everywhere | |
| 'Til my feet are turning bare | |
| You knock on the door | |
| But I rarely cross the floor | |
| Sit around and hope | |
| For some skin that soaks-up soap | |
| Will I answer? | |
| Place Your wind against my sails. |
| zuo qu : Ringhofer | |
| I' ll set nothing vile before my eyes | |
| And while You' re faithful | |
| Oh that faithless deeds | |
| Wouldn' t staticcling | |
| Then I' d be grateful | |
| Hem my pants so long | |
| For growing into strong | |
| Down past the shoes | |
| I didn' t roll them up | |
| To trip everyone up | |
| And then I blamed You | |
| Place Your wind against my sails | |
| Envelope that mails | |
| To a prisoner in jail | |
| Will I answer? | |
| Running everywhere | |
| ' Til my feet are turning bare | |
| You knock on the door | |
| But I rarely cross the floor | |
| Sit around and hope | |
| For some skin that soaksup soap | |
| Will I answer? | |
| Place Your wind against my sails. |
| zuò qǔ : Ringhofer | |
| I' ll set nothing vile before my eyes | |
| And while You' re faithful | |
| Oh that faithless deeds | |
| Wouldn' t staticcling | |
| Then I' d be grateful | |
| Hem my pants so long | |
| For growing into strong | |
| Down past the shoes | |
| I didn' t roll them up | |
| To trip everyone up | |
| And then I blamed You | |
| Place Your wind against my sails | |
| Envelope that mails | |
| To a prisoner in jail | |
| Will I answer? | |
| Running everywhere | |
| ' Til my feet are turning bare | |
| You knock on the door | |
| But I rarely cross the floor | |
| Sit around and hope | |
| For some skin that soaksup soap | |
| Will I answer? | |
| Place Your wind against my sails. |