Song | The Sacred Scrolls Of Pop |
Artist | Henry Priestman |
Album | The Chronicles Of Modern Life |
作曲 : Gilbert, Priestman | |
Oh I went down to Memphis to see what had become | |
Of those little works of art that hung out there at the sun | |
And I hit the Motor City, I was looking for the scene | |
Of the sound of soul that helped to fuel a million teenage dreams | |
Oh nobody could help me, they said they were all lost | |
To the bureaucrats and bean-counters that only count the cost | |
No-one could save me, they said it was too late | |
But I'll keep on keeping on until I reach heaven's gate | |
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot | |
I need three minutes now that'll make my heart stop | |
Oh so tell me that it's too late | |
It's a race against the clock | |
But I'm still looking around | |
I'm searching for the sacred scrolls of pop | |
Gonna keep on looking | |
So I sail on down the Mersey to fee that beating heart | |
But I had to wade through heritage before my trip could start | |
Yet in the highlands and the valleys, in the urban sprawl and smoke | |
There's a torch held high and shining and while it burns there's still hope | |
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot | |
I've done thirty years now, there's no way I can stop | |
Oh so tell me that it's too late | |
It's a race against the clock | |
But I keep looking around | |
I'm searching for the sacred scrolls of pop | |
Some say they crashed and burned, they met a sorry end | |
But I believe they're out there and they will be found again | |
I hear an old guitar and a battered tambourine | |
Someone blowing harp and I feel I'm seventeen again | |
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot | |
I need three minutes now that'll make my heart stop | |
Oh so tell me that it's too late | |
It's a race against the clock | |
But I keep looking around | |
Oh I'm looking around, but I ain't hit the spot | |
I've done thirty years now, there's no way I can stop | |
Oh so tell me that it's too late | |
It's a race against the clock | |
But I keep looking around | |
I'm searching for the sacred scrolls of pop | |
I keep on looking | |
Gonna keep on searching | |
Gonna keep on looking |
zuò qǔ : Gilbert, Priestman | |
Oh I went down to Memphis to see what had become | |
Of those little works of art that hung out there at the sun | |
And I hit the Motor City, I was looking for the scene | |
Of the sound of soul that helped to fuel a million teenage dreams | |
Oh nobody could help me, they said they were all lost | |
To the bureaucrats and beancounters that only count the cost | |
Noone could save me, they said it was too late | |
But I' ll keep on keeping on until I reach heaven' s gate | |
Oh I' m looking around, but I ain' t hit the spot | |
I need three minutes now that' ll make my heart stop | |
Oh so tell me that it' s too late | |
It' s a race against the clock | |
But I' m still looking around | |
I' m searching for the sacred scrolls of pop | |
Gonna keep on looking | |
So I sail on down the Mersey to fee that beating heart | |
But I had to wade through heritage before my trip could start | |
Yet in the highlands and the valleys, in the urban sprawl and smoke | |
There' s a torch held high and shining and while it burns there' s still hope | |
Oh I' m looking around, but I ain' t hit the spot | |
I' ve done thirty years now, there' s no way I can stop | |
Oh so tell me that it' s too late | |
It' s a race against the clock | |
But I keep looking around | |
I' m searching for the sacred scrolls of pop | |
Some say they crashed and burned, they met a sorry end | |
But I believe they' re out there and they will be found again | |
I hear an old guitar and a battered tambourine | |
Someone blowing harp and I feel I' m seventeen again | |
Oh I' m looking around, but I ain' t hit the spot | |
I need three minutes now that' ll make my heart stop | |
Oh so tell me that it' s too late | |
It' s a race against the clock | |
But I keep looking around | |
Oh I' m looking around, but I ain' t hit the spot | |
I' ve done thirty years now, there' s no way I can stop | |
Oh so tell me that it' s too late | |
It' s a race against the clock | |
But I keep looking around | |
I' m searching for the sacred scrolls of pop | |
I keep on looking | |
Gonna keep on searching | |
Gonna keep on looking |