When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease Lyrics

Song	When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease
Artist	Roy Harper
Album	HQ
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Harper
	When the day is done and the ball has spun in the umpires pocket away
	And all remains in the groundsman's pains for the rest of the time and a day
	There'll be one mad dog and his master, pushing for four with the spin
	On a dusty pitch with two pounds six of willow wood in the sun.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, you never know whether he's gone
	If sometimes you're catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Mid-on
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he's gone
	If sometimes you're catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Mid-on
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When the moment comes and the gathering stands and the clock turns back to reflect
	On the years of grace as those footsteps trace for the last time out of the act
	Well this way of life's recollection, the hallowed strip in the haze
	The fabled men and the noonday sun are much more than just yarns of their days.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he's gone
	If sometimes you're catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Mid-on
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he's gone
	If sometimes you're catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Mid-on
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee.

	zuo ci : Harper
	When the day is done and the ball has spun in the umpires pocket away
	And all remains in the groundsman' s pains for the rest of the time and a day
	There' ll be one mad dog and his master, pushing for four with the spin
	On a dusty pitch with two pounds six of willow wood in the sun.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When the moment comes and the gathering stands and the clock turns back to reflect
	On the years of grace as those footsteps trace for the last time out of the act
	Well this way of life' s recollection, the hallowed strip in the haze
	The fabled men and the noonday sun are much more than just yarns of their days.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee.

	zuò cí : Harper
	When the day is done and the ball has spun in the umpires pocket away
	And all remains in the groundsman' s pains for the rest of the time and a day
	There' ll be one mad dog and his master, pushing for four with the spin
	On a dusty pitch with two pounds six of willow wood in the sun.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When the moment comes and the gathering stands and the clock turns back to reflect
	On the years of grace as those footsteps trace for the last time out of the act
	Well this way of life' s recollection, the hallowed strip in the haze
	The fabled men and the noonday sun are much more than just yarns of their days.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee and it could be the sting in the ale, the sting in the ale.
	When an old cricketer leaves the crease, well you never know whether he' s gone
	If sometimes you' re catching a fleeting glimpse of a twelfth man at silly Midon
	And it could be Geoff and it could be John with a new ball sting in his tail
	And it could be me and it could be thee.

When an Old Cricketer Leaves the Crease Lyrics

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