A Stone Lyrics

Song	A Stone
Artist	Okkervil River
Album	Black Sheep Boy & Appendix
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : Hardin
	Hot breath
	rought skin,
	warm laughs and smiling,
	the lovliest words
	whispered and meant
	you like all these things.

	But, though you like all these things
	you love a stone.
	You love a stone,
	because it's smooth and it's cold.
	And you'd love most
	to be told
	that it's all your own.

	You love white veins,
	you love hard grey,
	the heaviest weight,
	the clumsiest shape,
	the earthiest smell,
	the hollowest tone
	you love a stone.

	And I'm found too fast,
	called too fond of flames,
	and then I'm phoning my friends,
	and then I'm shouldering the blame,
	while you're picking pebbles
	out of the drain,
	miles ago.
	You're out singing songs,
	and I'm down shouting names
	at the flickerless screen,
	going ****ing insane.
	Am I losing my cool,
	overstating my case?
	Well, baby what can I say?

	You know I never claimed
	that I was a stone.
	And you love a stone.
	You love white veins,
	you love hard grey,
	the heaviest weight,
	the clumsiest shape,
	the earthiest smell,
	the hollowest tone
	you love a stone.

	You love a stone,
	because it's dark and it's old,
	and if it could start
	being alive
	you'd stop living alone.
	And I think I believe that,
	if stones could dream,
	they'd dream of being laid
	side-by-side,
	piece-by-piece,
	and turned into a castle
	for some towering queen
	they're unable to know.

	And when that queen's daughter
	came of age,
	I think she'd be lovely
	and stubborn and brave,
	and suitors would journey
	from kingdoms away
	just to make themselves known.

	And I think that I know the bitter dismay of a lover who brought
	fresh brouquets every day
	when she turned him away
	to remember some knave
	who once gave
	just one rose, one day, years ago

	zuo qu : Hardin
	Hot breath
	rought skin,
	warm laughs and smiling,
	the lovliest words
	whispered and meant
	you like all these things.

	But, though you like all these things
	you love a stone.
	You love a stone,
	because it' s smooth and it' s cold.
	And you' d love most
	to be told
	that it' s all your own.

	You love white veins,
	you love hard grey,
	the heaviest weight,
	the clumsiest shape,
	the earthiest smell,
	the hollowest tone
	you love a stone.

	And I' m found too fast,
	called too fond of flames,
	and then I' m phoning my friends,
	and then I' m shouldering the blame,
	while you' re picking pebbles
	out of the drain,
	miles ago.
	You' re out singing songs,
	and I' m down shouting names
	at the flickerless screen,
	going ing insane.
	Am I losing my cool,
	overstating my case?
	Well, baby what can I say?

	You know I never claimed
	that I was a stone.
	And you love a stone.
	You love white veins,
	you love hard grey,
	the heaviest weight,
	the clumsiest shape,
	the earthiest smell,
	the hollowest tone
	you love a stone.

	You love a stone,
	because it' s dark and it' s old,
	and if it could start
	being alive
	you' d stop living alone.
	And I think I believe that,
	if stones could dream,
	they' d dream of being laid
	sidebyside,
	piecebypiece,
	and turned into a castle
	for some towering queen
	they' re unable to know.

	And when that queen' s daughter
	came of age,
	I think she' d be lovely
	and stubborn and brave,
	and suitors would journey
	from kingdoms away
	just to make themselves known.

	And I think that I know the bitter dismay of a lover who brought
	fresh brouquets every day
	when she turned him away
	to remember some knave
	who once gave
	just one rose, one day, years ago

	zuò qǔ : Hardin
	Hot breath
	rought skin,
	warm laughs and smiling,
	the lovliest words
	whispered and meant
	you like all these things.

	But, though you like all these things
	you love a stone.
	You love a stone,
	because it' s smooth and it' s cold.
	And you' d love most
	to be told
	that it' s all your own.

	You love white veins,
	you love hard grey,
	the heaviest weight,
	the clumsiest shape,
	the earthiest smell,
	the hollowest tone
	you love a stone.

	And I' m found too fast,
	called too fond of flames,
	and then I' m phoning my friends,
	and then I' m shouldering the blame,
	while you' re picking pebbles
	out of the drain,
	miles ago.
	You' re out singing songs,
	and I' m down shouting names
	at the flickerless screen,
	going ing insane.
	Am I losing my cool,
	overstating my case?
	Well, baby what can I say?

	You know I never claimed
	that I was a stone.
	And you love a stone.
	You love white veins,
	you love hard grey,
	the heaviest weight,
	the clumsiest shape,
	the earthiest smell,
	the hollowest tone
	you love a stone.

	You love a stone,
	because it' s dark and it' s old,
	and if it could start
	being alive
	you' d stop living alone.
	And I think I believe that,
	if stones could dream,
	they' d dream of being laid
	sidebyside,
	piecebypiece,
	and turned into a castle
	for some towering queen
	they' re unable to know.

	And when that queen' s daughter
	came of age,
	I think she' d be lovely
	and stubborn and brave,
	and suitors would journey
	from kingdoms away
	just to make themselves known.

	And I think that I know the bitter dismay of a lover who brought
	fresh brouquets every day
	when she turned him away
	to remember some knave
	who once gave
	just one rose, one day, years ago

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