Words Too Small To Say Lyrics

Song	Words Too Small To Say
Artist	Peter Mulvey
Album	The Trouble With Poets
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : Goodrich, Mulvey
	What good is a syllable?
	I wish this disease was killable
	Nothing you say can change the way the hole remains unfillable
	The burden unshakable
	The breakable soul is up there without a net
	Are we having fun yet?
	We're looking for the cure
	The pure state of mind
	But who has the time these days, who has the time?
	Gone are the days of the hero
	There's nothing left but the one and the zero
	Which one are you?
	You decide alone,
	The dial tone your only guide since the deicide of Neitzche and Freud
	Left us with the void
	Aw thank you, big fellas
	It was a hell of a thing to do...
	Believe me
	I would not lie to you today
	I've heard words
	I've heard words too small to say
	I hear them fall like the rain
	And they touch me just like hands
	And the secret
	The secret is not minding what you don't understand
	Gone are the days of the priest and the shaman
	Can you get an amen?
	The answer is no
	But oh - a bottle of pills
	For twenty five bucks a week
	And everything that you seek
	And everything that is hunting you down
	Recedes to the sound of a dull roar
	But you're up off the floor
	And not so unsteady
	Ready? swallow the first one...
	Maybe we're only as sick as our secrets
	And maybe our secrets are all that we own
	Maybe you pump air into the belljar and maybe you're under the belljar alone
	Maybe salvation falls from on high
	Maybe there's no salvation up there
	Maybe there's a secret
	Maybe we share
	Believe me
	I could not lie if I tried anyway
	I've heard words
	I've heard words too small to say
	I hear them fall like the rain
	I see them touch me like hands
	And the secret
	The secret is not minding what you don't understand
	I got a secret I should tell
	I'm going up to Heaven on a split pea shell.
	Written off of a live recording. Anyone with the CD, feel free to submit corrections.

	zuo qu : Goodrich, Mulvey
	What good is a syllable?
	I wish this disease was killable
	Nothing you say can change the way the hole remains unfillable
	The burden unshakable
	The breakable soul is up there without a net
	Are we having fun yet?
	We' re looking for the cure
	The pure state of mind
	But who has the time these days, who has the time?
	Gone are the days of the hero
	There' s nothing left but the one and the zero
	Which one are you?
	You decide alone,
	The dial tone your only guide since the deicide of Neitzche and Freud
	Left us with the void
	Aw thank you, big fellas
	It was a hell of a thing to do...
	Believe me
	I would not lie to you today
	I' ve heard words
	I' ve heard words too small to say
	I hear them fall like the rain
	And they touch me just like hands
	And the secret
	The secret is not minding what you don' t understand
	Gone are the days of the priest and the shaman
	Can you get an amen?
	The answer is no
	But oh a bottle of pills
	For twenty five bucks a week
	And everything that you seek
	And everything that is hunting you down
	Recedes to the sound of a dull roar
	But you' re up off the floor
	And not so unsteady
	Ready? swallow the first one...
	Maybe we' re only as sick as our secrets
	And maybe our secrets are all that we own
	Maybe you pump air into the belljar and maybe you' re under the belljar alone
	Maybe salvation falls from on high
	Maybe there' s no salvation up there
	Maybe there' s a secret
	Maybe we share
	Believe me
	I could not lie if I tried anyway
	I' ve heard words
	I' ve heard words too small to say
	I hear them fall like the rain
	I see them touch me like hands
	And the secret
	The secret is not minding what you don' t understand
	I got a secret I should tell
	I' m going up to Heaven on a split pea shell.
	Written off of a live recording. Anyone with the CD, feel free to submit corrections.

	zuò qǔ : Goodrich, Mulvey
	What good is a syllable?
	I wish this disease was killable
	Nothing you say can change the way the hole remains unfillable
	The burden unshakable
	The breakable soul is up there without a net
	Are we having fun yet?
	We' re looking for the cure
	The pure state of mind
	But who has the time these days, who has the time?
	Gone are the days of the hero
	There' s nothing left but the one and the zero
	Which one are you?
	You decide alone,
	The dial tone your only guide since the deicide of Neitzche and Freud
	Left us with the void
	Aw thank you, big fellas
	It was a hell of a thing to do...
	Believe me
	I would not lie to you today
	I' ve heard words
	I' ve heard words too small to say
	I hear them fall like the rain
	And they touch me just like hands
	And the secret
	The secret is not minding what you don' t understand
	Gone are the days of the priest and the shaman
	Can you get an amen?
	The answer is no
	But oh a bottle of pills
	For twenty five bucks a week
	And everything that you seek
	And everything that is hunting you down
	Recedes to the sound of a dull roar
	But you' re up off the floor
	And not so unsteady
	Ready? swallow the first one...
	Maybe we' re only as sick as our secrets
	And maybe our secrets are all that we own
	Maybe you pump air into the belljar and maybe you' re under the belljar alone
	Maybe salvation falls from on high
	Maybe there' s no salvation up there
	Maybe there' s a secret
	Maybe we share
	Believe me
	I could not lie if I tried anyway
	I' ve heard words
	I' ve heard words too small to say
	I hear them fall like the rain
	I see them touch me like hands
	And the secret
	The secret is not minding what you don' t understand
	I got a secret I should tell
	I' m going up to Heaven on a split pea shell.
	Written off of a live recording. Anyone with the CD, feel free to submit corrections.

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