In a Market Dimly Lit Lyrics

Song	In a Market Dimly Lit
Artist	mewithoutYou
Album	Brother, Sister
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : MewithoutYou
	the bird that plucked the Olive Leaf
	has been circling like a record 'round the spindle of my mind
	where the needle's worn the grooves too deep,
	and scratched the wax that's blistered from the heat besides
	from any movement in the room-
	if my cat walked by the arm skipped!
	but to my surprise, my interrupting cat improved
	the sound already so severely compromised
	'cause the needle's worn the grooves too deep
	the needle's worn the grooves too deep
	I'm a donkey's jaw on a desert dune
	beside the bush that Moses saw
	that burned and yet was not consumed
	she's the silver coin I lost,
	I'm the sheep who slipped away
	we pray the fingers crossed
	but you listen patiently anyway
	I wrote a little song for you
	a melody I borrowed put to words that didn't rhyme
	to repeat what you already knew
	as the stones thrown at your window tap in syncopation
	you kept a distance out of fear you'd break
	but what good's a single windchime, hanging quiet all alone?
	the music our collisions would make
	is a sound that turns the road-that-leads-us-back-home
	into Home.
	the music our collisions make!
	the music our collisions make!
	I had a rusty spade but I'm not the fighting sort
	if I was Samson I'd have found that harlot's blade
	and cut my own hair short!
	then in a market dimly lit I come casually to pay
	you see my coins are counterfeit
	but accept them anyway
	so spare me your goodbyes,
	your waving-handkerchief-good-byes
	given my tendency to err so on the sentimental side
	I'll spare you my goodbyes,
	the truth belongs to G-d,
	the mistakes were mine

	zuo qu : MewithoutYou
	the bird that plucked the Olive Leaf
	has been circling like a record ' round the spindle of my mind
	where the needle' s worn the grooves too deep,
	and scratched the wax that' s blistered from the heat besides
	from any movement in the room
	if my cat walked by the arm skipped!
	but to my surprise, my interrupting cat improved
	the sound already so severely compromised
	' cause the needle' s worn the grooves too deep
	the needle' s worn the grooves too deep
	I' m a donkey' s jaw on a desert dune
	beside the bush that Moses saw
	that burned and yet was not consumed
	she' s the silver coin I lost,
	I' m the sheep who slipped away
	we pray the fingers crossed
	but you listen patiently anyway
	I wrote a little song for you
	a melody I borrowed put to words that didn' t rhyme
	to repeat what you already knew
	as the stones thrown at your window tap in syncopation
	you kept a distance out of fear you' d break
	but what good' s a single windchime, hanging quiet all alone?
	the music our collisions would make
	is a sound that turns the roadthatleadsusbackhome
	into Home.
	the music our collisions make!
	the music our collisions make!
	I had a rusty spade but I' m not the fighting sort
	if I was Samson I' d have found that harlot' s blade
	and cut my own hair short!
	then in a market dimly lit I come casually to pay
	you see my coins are counterfeit
	but accept them anyway
	so spare me your goodbyes,
	your wavinghandkerchiefgoodbyes
	given my tendency to err so on the sentimental side
	I' ll spare you my goodbyes,
	the truth belongs to Gd,
	the mistakes were mine

	zuò qǔ : MewithoutYou
	the bird that plucked the Olive Leaf
	has been circling like a record ' round the spindle of my mind
	where the needle' s worn the grooves too deep,
	and scratched the wax that' s blistered from the heat besides
	from any movement in the room
	if my cat walked by the arm skipped!
	but to my surprise, my interrupting cat improved
	the sound already so severely compromised
	' cause the needle' s worn the grooves too deep
	the needle' s worn the grooves too deep
	I' m a donkey' s jaw on a desert dune
	beside the bush that Moses saw
	that burned and yet was not consumed
	she' s the silver coin I lost,
	I' m the sheep who slipped away
	we pray the fingers crossed
	but you listen patiently anyway
	I wrote a little song for you
	a melody I borrowed put to words that didn' t rhyme
	to repeat what you already knew
	as the stones thrown at your window tap in syncopation
	you kept a distance out of fear you' d break
	but what good' s a single windchime, hanging quiet all alone?
	the music our collisions would make
	is a sound that turns the roadthatleadsusbackhome
	into Home.
	the music our collisions make!
	the music our collisions make!
	I had a rusty spade but I' m not the fighting sort
	if I was Samson I' d have found that harlot' s blade
	and cut my own hair short!
	then in a market dimly lit I come casually to pay
	you see my coins are counterfeit
	but accept them anyway
	so spare me your goodbyes,
	your wavinghandkerchiefgoodbyes
	given my tendency to err so on the sentimental side
	I' ll spare you my goodbyes,
	the truth belongs to Gd,
	the mistakes were mine

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