The Humid Press Of Days Lyrics

	作词 : Krummenacher, Lisher, Lowery ...
	What did it mean to fly
	A tremor in your soul
	To resist the dull existence of gravity
	Upward bound, trees fly
	Two meadows and a fields
	And the border is a simple line of hills
	Ah, didja come uncoiled
	Between heavens and the earth
	Whispered nonsense into your radio
	Now afternoons you seldom move
	Grounded to a little bit of earth
	And, after all, time barely crawls
	Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
	What did it mean to fly
	When you were bound to the earth
	A release from the humid press of days
	Now afternoons it hardly moves
	I wonder how you make it through each day
	And, after all, time barely crawls
	Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
	What did it mean to fly
	A tremor in your soul
	To resist the dull existence of gravity
	What did it mean to you
	An early chat with death
	To pull your body for a moment from your soul

	zuo ci : Krummenacher, Lisher, Lowery ...
	What did it mean to fly
	A tremor in your soul
	To resist the dull existence of gravity
	Upward bound, trees fly
	Two meadows and a fields
	And the border is a simple line of hills
	Ah, didja come uncoiled
	Between heavens and the earth
	Whispered nonsense into your radio
	Now afternoons you seldom move
	Grounded to a little bit of earth
	And, after all, time barely crawls
	Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
	What did it mean to fly
	When you were bound to the earth
	A release from the humid press of days
	Now afternoons it hardly moves
	I wonder how you make it through each day
	And, after all, time barely crawls
	Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
	What did it mean to fly
	A tremor in your soul
	To resist the dull existence of gravity
	What did it mean to you
	An early chat with death
	To pull your body for a moment from your soul

	zuò cí : Krummenacher, Lisher, Lowery ...
	What did it mean to fly
	A tremor in your soul
	To resist the dull existence of gravity
	Upward bound, trees fly
	Two meadows and a fields
	And the border is a simple line of hills
	Ah, didja come uncoiled
	Between heavens and the earth
	Whispered nonsense into your radio
	Now afternoons you seldom move
	Grounded to a little bit of earth
	And, after all, time barely crawls
	Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
	What did it mean to fly
	When you were bound to the earth
	A release from the humid press of days
	Now afternoons it hardly moves
	I wonder how you make it through each day
	And, after all, time barely crawls
	Unoccupied, between each breath it sticks
	What did it mean to fly
	A tremor in your soul
	To resist the dull existence of gravity
	What did it mean to you
	An early chat with death
	To pull your body for a moment from your soul

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