| Song | Periphery Waltz |
| Artist | Jolie Holland |
| Album | Catalpa |
| 作曲 : Holland | |
| When the supreme authorities of our culture | |
| Tell us to get down on our knees | |
| And beg for salvation from some divinity | |
| Is it any wonder there are people | |
| Begging on the street for salvation from poverty | |
| Well, it's no surprise to me | |
| It's no surprise to me | |
| I left my home in the church | |
| I left my home in the suburbs to wander | |
| Now I did it all for my dreams | |
| And the star that | |
| I followed fell from the periphery | |
| And the street lights | |
| Slipping down my windshield fell like falling stars | |
| Down a dark country road | |
| I first left my home when | |
| I was seventeen | |
| And I paid my respects to my fellow rejects | |
| But I tended to wander alone | |
| Like I was listening to the words of a song | |
| Whispered soft and low | |
| Well it's kind of like dancing | |
| It's kind of like losing your mind | |
| And I've often considered | |
| The impractibility of my life | |
| And the moon behind the clouds is ill-defined | |
| Well I got lost so many times | |
| But I could not be consigned | |
| To a fate of obsolescence and decline | |
| So I'll take the chance again | |
| And the Mockingbird is my friend | |
| When he sings a song in the warm midnight wind | |
| So I'll follow my old tune | |
| And I'll wish you good morning |
| zuò qǔ : Holland | |
| When the supreme authorities of our culture | |
| Tell us to get down on our knees | |
| And beg for salvation from some divinity | |
| Is it any wonder there are people | |
| Begging on the street for salvation from poverty | |
| Well, it' s no surprise to me | |
| It' s no surprise to me | |
| I left my home in the church | |
| I left my home in the suburbs to wander | |
| Now I did it all for my dreams | |
| And the star that | |
| I followed fell from the periphery | |
| And the street lights | |
| Slipping down my windshield fell like falling stars | |
| Down a dark country road | |
| I first left my home when | |
| I was seventeen | |
| And I paid my respects to my fellow rejects | |
| But I tended to wander alone | |
| Like I was listening to the words of a song | |
| Whispered soft and low | |
| Well it' s kind of like dancing | |
| It' s kind of like losing your mind | |
| And I' ve often considered | |
| The impractibility of my life | |
| And the moon behind the clouds is illdefined | |
| Well I got lost so many times | |
| But I could not be consigned | |
| To a fate of obsolescence and decline | |
| So I' ll take the chance again | |
| And the Mockingbird is my friend | |
| When he sings a song in the warm midnight wind | |
| So I' ll follow my old tune | |
| And I' ll wish you good morning |