| Song | Synchronicity II |
| Artist | The Police |
| Album | Message In A Box |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Sting | |
| Another suburban family morning | |
| Grandmother screaming at the wall | |
| We have to shout above the din of our rice crispies | |
| We can't hear anything at all | |
| Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration | |
| But we know all her suicides are fake | |
| Daddy only stares into the distance | |
| There's only so much more that he can take | |
| Many miles away | |
| Something crawls from the slime | |
| At the bottom of a dark scottish lake | |
| Another industrial ugly morning | |
| The factory belches filth into the sky | |
| He walks unhindered through the picket lines today | |
| He doesn't think to wonder why | |
| The secretaries pout and preen like | |
| Cheap tarts in a red light street | |
| But all he ever thinks to do is watch | |
| And every single meeting with his so-called superior | |
| Is a humiliating kick in the crotch | |
| Many miles away | |
| Something crawls to the surface | |
| Of a dark scottish lake | |
| Another working day has ended | |
| Only the rush hour hell to face | |
| Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes | |
| Contestants in a suicidal race | |
| Daddy grips the wheel and stares alone into the distance | |
| He knows that something somewhere has to break | |
| He sees the family home now looming in the headlights | |
| The pain upstairs that makes his eyeballs ache | |
| Many miles away | |
| There's a shadow on the door | |
| Of a cottage on the shore | |
| Of a dark scottish lake | |
| Many miles away, many miles away |
| zuo ci : Sting | |
| Another suburban family morning | |
| Grandmother screaming at the wall | |
| We have to shout above the din of our rice crispies | |
| We can' t hear anything at all | |
| Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration | |
| But we know all her suicides are fake | |
| Daddy only stares into the distance | |
| There' s only so much more that he can take | |
| Many miles away | |
| Something crawls from the slime | |
| At the bottom of a dark scottish lake | |
| Another industrial ugly morning | |
| The factory belches filth into the sky | |
| He walks unhindered through the picket lines today | |
| He doesn' t think to wonder why | |
| The secretaries pout and preen like | |
| Cheap tarts in a red light street | |
| But all he ever thinks to do is watch | |
| And every single meeting with his socalled superior | |
| Is a humiliating kick in the crotch | |
| Many miles away | |
| Something crawls to the surface | |
| Of a dark scottish lake | |
| Another working day has ended | |
| Only the rush hour hell to face | |
| Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes | |
| Contestants in a suicidal race | |
| Daddy grips the wheel and stares alone into the distance | |
| He knows that something somewhere has to break | |
| He sees the family home now looming in the headlights | |
| The pain upstairs that makes his eyeballs ache | |
| Many miles away | |
| There' s a shadow on the door | |
| Of a cottage on the shore | |
| Of a dark scottish lake | |
| Many miles away, many miles away |
| zuò cí : Sting | |
| Another suburban family morning | |
| Grandmother screaming at the wall | |
| We have to shout above the din of our rice crispies | |
| We can' t hear anything at all | |
| Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration | |
| But we know all her suicides are fake | |
| Daddy only stares into the distance | |
| There' s only so much more that he can take | |
| Many miles away | |
| Something crawls from the slime | |
| At the bottom of a dark scottish lake | |
| Another industrial ugly morning | |
| The factory belches filth into the sky | |
| He walks unhindered through the picket lines today | |
| He doesn' t think to wonder why | |
| The secretaries pout and preen like | |
| Cheap tarts in a red light street | |
| But all he ever thinks to do is watch | |
| And every single meeting with his socalled superior | |
| Is a humiliating kick in the crotch | |
| Many miles away | |
| Something crawls to the surface | |
| Of a dark scottish lake | |
| Another working day has ended | |
| Only the rush hour hell to face | |
| Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes | |
| Contestants in a suicidal race | |
| Daddy grips the wheel and stares alone into the distance | |
| He knows that something somewhere has to break | |
| He sees the family home now looming in the headlights | |
| The pain upstairs that makes his eyeballs ache | |
| Many miles away | |
| There' s a shadow on the door | |
| Of a cottage on the shore | |
| Of a dark scottish lake | |
| Many miles away, many miles away |