| Song | Sunken Waltz |
| Artist | Calexico |
| Album | Feast of Wire |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Burns, Convertino | |
| Washed my face in the rivers of empire, | |
| made my bed from a cardboard crate, | |
| down in the City of Quartz. | |
| No news, no new regrets. | |
| Tossed a Susan B. over my shoulder, | |
| and prayed it would rain and rain, | |
| submerge the whole western states. | |
| Call it a last fair deal | |
| with American zeal | |
| and corporate handshake. | |
| Take the story of Carpenter Mike, | |
| who dropped his tools and his keys and left | |
| and headed out as far as he could, | |
| past the cities and gated neighborhoods. | |
| And he slept neath the stars, | |
| wrote down what he dreamt, | |
| and he built a machine | |
| for no one to see. | |
| Then took flight, at first light | |
| of new morning. |
| zuo ci : Burns, Convertino | |
| Washed my face in the rivers of empire, | |
| made my bed from a cardboard crate, | |
| down in the City of Quartz. | |
| No news, no new regrets. | |
| Tossed a Susan B. over my shoulder, | |
| and prayed it would rain and rain, | |
| submerge the whole western states. | |
| Call it a last fair deal | |
| with American zeal | |
| and corporate handshake. | |
| Take the story of Carpenter Mike, | |
| who dropped his tools and his keys and left | |
| and headed out as far as he could, | |
| past the cities and gated neighborhoods. | |
| And he slept neath the stars, | |
| wrote down what he dreamt, | |
| and he built a machine | |
| for no one to see. | |
| Then took flight, at first light | |
| of new morning. |
| zuò cí : Burns, Convertino | |
| Washed my face in the rivers of empire, | |
| made my bed from a cardboard crate, | |
| down in the City of Quartz. | |
| No news, no new regrets. | |
| Tossed a Susan B. over my shoulder, | |
| and prayed it would rain and rain, | |
| submerge the whole western states. | |
| Call it a last fair deal | |
| with American zeal | |
| and corporate handshake. | |
| Take the story of Carpenter Mike, | |
| who dropped his tools and his keys and left | |
| and headed out as far as he could, | |
| past the cities and gated neighborhoods. | |
| And he slept neath the stars, | |
| wrote down what he dreamt, | |
| and he built a machine | |
| for no one to see. | |
| Then took flight, at first light | |
| of new morning. |