[ti:Envelopes of Yesterday]
[ar:Peter Sinfield]
[al:Still]
[00:00.00] 作曲 : Sinfield
[00:35.27] I feel like a rusty key I don't fit any door
[00:42.24] You stole my cloudy castles but you didn't say what for
[00:49.41] You said I didn't have the eyes to paint out in the street
[00:56.50] Without a standard martyr's hat and neon sloganned feet
[01:04.04] To eat, it seems, I needed you, for crumbs your need was me
[01:11.15] We cheered and passed the sanguine flask till the iceman made me see
[01:18.05] At five o'clock you could never wash your printer's stain away
[01:25.01] So I count you lost and your words I've tossed
[01:28.49] In the bleary(weary) envelopes of yesterday...
[01:35.81]
[01:37.68] I feel like a tumbling kite there's no hand on my reel
[01:44.63] I dived aboard your star-bright ship to find you'd left the wheel
[01:51.74] To hunt some upstart passengers who had gambled with their fare
[01:58.56] Then trumpeted the hull with holes and laughing gone by air
[02:05.72] Whilst most of us who stayed aboard slipped brandy to the crew
[02:12.79] John Purser locked his iron box and pointed at the queue
[02:19.72] Still working out the price of time no echoes will we lay
[02:26.83] So I've burnt the till and I've thrown the bills
[02:30.71] In the weary(weary) envelopes of yesterday...
[02:37.68]
[03:21.04] I need to suck the breasts of time and freeze her milk in ink
[03:28.24] To juggle cruets full of dreams and balance on the brink
[03:35.04] Don't blame me if my smoke and steam obscured your rutted track
[03:42.09] I only meant to startle you not offer you my back
[03:49.21] To ride upon and overload with your jars of unbaked clay
[03:55.96] You can find your guide to the pulpit ride
[03:59.57] In the dreary(weary) envelopes of yesterday...
[04:06.55]
[04:09.43] I'm upside down, I'm an empty town, my eyes are full of ghost
[04:17.22] Of dusty windowed certainty and spider-webbed almost
[04:23.95] I love, I hate this rock and roll, the ladies and the lights
[04:30.70] Ate all my flowers long ago but the roots came through all right
[04:37.65] Whilst now my toast is the crossroads post, I hear just out of sight
[04:44.81] That the Black Pick's found his Chaldean lamp
[04:48.30] After years in a concentration camp
[04:51.67] But I fear he's still out on the ice
[04:55.08] With his bagpipe mouth and his cup of crimson speiss
[05:02.32]
[05:25.80] Still, I've fulfilled a host of dreams for that I'll cry hurray
[05:26:00] (Still, I've explored a plague of dreams and I've led the masquerade)
[05:32.61] But it won't be long till I cast this song
[05:36.33] In the jet-edged envelopes...
[05:36.53] (In the ash-filled envelopes...)
[05:39.89]