Brompton Oratory Lyrics
| Song | Brompton Oratory |
| Artist | Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds |
| Album | The Boatman's Call |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Cave | |
| Up those stone steps I climb | |
| Hail this joyful day's return | |
| Into its great shadowed vault I go | |
| Hail the Pentecostal morn | |
| The reading is from Luke 24 | |
| Where Christ returns to his loved ones | |
| I look at the stone apostles | |
| Think that it's alright for some | |
| And I wish that I was made of stone | |
| So that I would not have to see | |
| A beauty impossible to define | |
| A beauty impossible to believe | |
| A beauty impossible to endure | |
| The blood imparted in little sips | |
| The smell of you still on my hands | |
| As I bring the cup up to my lips | |
| No God up in the sky | |
| No devil beneath the sea | |
| Could do the job that you did, baby | |
| Of bringing me to my knees | |
| Outside I sit on the stone steps | |
| With nothing much to do | |
| Forlorn and exhausted, baby | |
| By the absence of you |
| zuo ci : Cave | |
| Up those stone steps I climb | |
| Hail this joyful day' s return | |
| Into its great shadowed vault I go | |
| Hail the Pentecostal morn | |
| The reading is from Luke 24 | |
| Where Christ returns to his loved ones | |
| I look at the stone apostles | |
| Think that it' s alright for some | |
| And I wish that I was made of stone | |
| So that I would not have to see | |
| A beauty impossible to define | |
| A beauty impossible to believe | |
| A beauty impossible to endure | |
| The blood imparted in little sips | |
| The smell of you still on my hands | |
| As I bring the cup up to my lips | |
| No God up in the sky | |
| No devil beneath the sea | |
| Could do the job that you did, baby | |
| Of bringing me to my knees | |
| Outside I sit on the stone steps | |
| With nothing much to do | |
| Forlorn and exhausted, baby | |
| By the absence of you |
| zuò cí : Cave | |
| Up those stone steps I climb | |
| Hail this joyful day' s return | |
| Into its great shadowed vault I go | |
| Hail the Pentecostal morn | |
| The reading is from Luke 24 | |
| Where Christ returns to his loved ones | |
| I look at the stone apostles | |
| Think that it' s alright for some | |
| And I wish that I was made of stone | |
| So that I would not have to see | |
| A beauty impossible to define | |
| A beauty impossible to believe | |
| A beauty impossible to endure | |
| The blood imparted in little sips | |
| The smell of you still on my hands | |
| As I bring the cup up to my lips | |
| No God up in the sky | |
| No devil beneath the sea | |
| Could do the job that you did, baby | |
| Of bringing me to my knees | |
| Outside I sit on the stone steps | |
| With nothing much to do | |
| Forlorn and exhausted, baby | |
| By the absence of you |
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