If There Was Love Lyrics
| Song | If There Was Love |
| Artist | Liza Minnelli |
| Album | Results |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Lowe, Tennant | |
| Men of affairs, women with power | |
| Satellites talking, to clatter our lives | |
| Banks of predictions, policies made | |
| Prophecies broken, violence deranged (deranged, deranged) | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| Pollsters and planners, incredibly sad | |
| indelibly inking, their names across our lives | |
| Individual freedom, intrinsically curbed | |
| Inspiration nil, slavery ten | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| I've been working for a long time | |
| Scattering smiles | |
| Must I swallow my pride? | |
| There's a hole in the sky, as distant and vast | |
| As our moral vacuum, and growing as fast | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| "They that have power to hurt and will do none, | |
| That do not do the thing they most do show, | |
| Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, | |
| Unmoved, cold and to temptation slow; | |
| They rightly do inherit heaven's graces | |
| And husband nature's riches from expense; | |
| They are the lords and owners of their faces, | |
| Others but stewards of their excellence. | |
| The summer's flower is to the summer sweet, | |
| Though to itself it only live and die, | |
| But if that flower with base infection meet, | |
| The basest weed outbraves his dignity: | |
| For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; | |
| Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds." | |
| (W. Shakespeare, Sonnet 94) |
| zuo qu : Lowe, Tennant | |
| Men of affairs, women with power | |
| Satellites talking, to clatter our lives | |
| Banks of predictions, policies made | |
| Prophecies broken, violence deranged deranged, deranged | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| Pollsters and planners, incredibly sad | |
| indelibly inking, their names across our lives | |
| Individual freedom, intrinsically curbed | |
| Inspiration nil, slavery ten | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| I' ve been working for a long time | |
| Scattering smiles | |
| Must I swallow my pride? | |
| There' s a hole in the sky, as distant and vast | |
| As our moral vacuum, and growing as fast | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| " They that have power to hurt and will do none, | |
| That do not do the thing they most do show, | |
| Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, | |
| Unmoved, cold and to temptation slow | |
| They rightly do inherit heaven' s graces | |
| And husband nature' s riches from expense | |
| They are the lords and owners of their faces, | |
| Others but stewards of their excellence. | |
| The summer' s flower is to the summer sweet, | |
| Though to itself it only live and die, | |
| But if that flower with base infection meet, | |
| The basest weed outbraves his dignity: | |
| For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds | |
| Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds." | |
| W. Shakespeare, Sonnet 94 |
| zuò qǔ : Lowe, Tennant | |
| Men of affairs, women with power | |
| Satellites talking, to clatter our lives | |
| Banks of predictions, policies made | |
| Prophecies broken, violence deranged deranged, deranged | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| Pollsters and planners, incredibly sad | |
| indelibly inking, their names across our lives | |
| Individual freedom, intrinsically curbed | |
| Inspiration nil, slavery ten | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| I' ve been working for a long time | |
| Scattering smiles | |
| Must I swallow my pride? | |
| There' s a hole in the sky, as distant and vast | |
| As our moral vacuum, and growing as fast | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| And if there was love, would that be enough? | |
| " They that have power to hurt and will do none, | |
| That do not do the thing they most do show, | |
| Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, | |
| Unmoved, cold and to temptation slow | |
| They rightly do inherit heaven' s graces | |
| And husband nature' s riches from expense | |
| They are the lords and owners of their faces, | |
| Others but stewards of their excellence. | |
| The summer' s flower is to the summer sweet, | |
| Though to itself it only live and die, | |
| But if that flower with base infection meet, | |
| The basest weed outbraves his dignity: | |
| For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds | |
| Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds." | |
| W. Shakespeare, Sonnet 94 |
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