Death To The Storm Lyrics
| Song | Death To The Storm |
| Artist | Joe Henry |
| Album | Blood From Stars |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Henry, Warren | |
| There's a song we used to know | |
| A kind of weary blues | |
| Some broken tune from long ago | |
| Some of us still like to use | |
| It hangs up high in the rafters | |
| Like smoke it has no form | |
| Keep it all hid like laughter | |
| And sing out death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| We keep it all hid like laughter | |
| And sing out death, death to the storm | |
| I've caught my rage in the making | |
| Alive here in my hand | |
| But it bent the rod to breaking | |
| And still | |
| I'm a hungry, hungry man | |
| The trouble is so underrated | |
| I've been battered, rusted, whored | |
| Calling all the great ill fated | |
| Who bring death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| We call upon the great ill fated | |
| Who bring death, death to the storm | |
| A line of cars is rolling westbound | |
| A dark river just begun | |
| The tramps are huddled in their best now | |
| Like a funeral in the sun | |
| A man waits on orange crates | |
| His meager eyes go soft and warm | |
| As women wade the deep parade | |
| Cheering death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| As women wade the deep parade | |
| Cheering death, death to the storm |
| zuo qu : Henry, Warren | |
| There' s a song we used to know | |
| A kind of weary blues | |
| Some broken tune from long ago | |
| Some of us still like to use | |
| It hangs up high in the rafters | |
| Like smoke it has no form | |
| Keep it all hid like laughter | |
| And sing out death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| We keep it all hid like laughter | |
| And sing out death, death to the storm | |
| I' ve caught my rage in the making | |
| Alive here in my hand | |
| But it bent the rod to breaking | |
| And still | |
| I' m a hungry, hungry man | |
| The trouble is so underrated | |
| I' ve been battered, rusted, whored | |
| Calling all the great ill fated | |
| Who bring death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| We call upon the great ill fated | |
| Who bring death, death to the storm | |
| A line of cars is rolling westbound | |
| A dark river just begun | |
| The tramps are huddled in their best now | |
| Like a funeral in the sun | |
| A man waits on orange crates | |
| His meager eyes go soft and warm | |
| As women wade the deep parade | |
| Cheering death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| As women wade the deep parade | |
| Cheering death, death to the storm |
| zuò qǔ : Henry, Warren | |
| There' s a song we used to know | |
| A kind of weary blues | |
| Some broken tune from long ago | |
| Some of us still like to use | |
| It hangs up high in the rafters | |
| Like smoke it has no form | |
| Keep it all hid like laughter | |
| And sing out death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| We keep it all hid like laughter | |
| And sing out death, death to the storm | |
| I' ve caught my rage in the making | |
| Alive here in my hand | |
| But it bent the rod to breaking | |
| And still | |
| I' m a hungry, hungry man | |
| The trouble is so underrated | |
| I' ve been battered, rusted, whored | |
| Calling all the great ill fated | |
| Who bring death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| We call upon the great ill fated | |
| Who bring death, death to the storm | |
| A line of cars is rolling westbound | |
| A dark river just begun | |
| The tramps are huddled in their best now | |
| Like a funeral in the sun | |
| A man waits on orange crates | |
| His meager eyes go soft and warm | |
| As women wade the deep parade | |
| Cheering death, death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| Death to the storm | |
| As women wade the deep parade | |
| Cheering death, death to the storm |
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