Eleven Years Lyrics
| Song | Eleven Years |
| Artist | New Model Army |
| Album | ...& Nobody Else |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Heaton, Nice, Sullivan | |
| Stevie said now don't look round they're watching us | |
| Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club | |
| And the grey eyes, the storm that I've come to know and wish for | |
| Before I caught a breath, well, she was standing there. | |
| We walked the streets of our town just talking | |
| And the dawn broke grey and freezing through the deserted blocks | |
| Just when your life is stale and there's reason there for everything | |
| Something comes to kick you up inside | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down | |
| No Rest for the wicked is still how it goes | |
| Twisted up and turning in my bed alone | |
| And separation pains like a blunted amputation | |
| Pushing endless coins in the telephone | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down | |
| So rest in these open arms and lie until they come for you | |
| And tell me everything you've ever felt, tell me everything you want to see . . . | |
| Forever running even when we are standing still | |
| Driven on and fired up as the whirlwinds blow | |
| And shouting out inside "I'm proud of you, I'm proud of you" | |
| Ten thousand footsteps echo down the Brixton Road | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down |
| zuo ci : Heaton, Nice, Sullivan | |
| Stevie said now don' t look round they' re watching us | |
| Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club | |
| And the grey eyes, the storm that I' ve come to know and wish for | |
| Before I caught a breath, well, she was standing there. | |
| We walked the streets of our town just talking | |
| And the dawn broke grey and freezing through the deserted blocks | |
| Just when your life is stale and there' s reason there for everything | |
| Something comes to kick you up inside | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down | |
| No Rest for the wicked is still how it goes | |
| Twisted up and turning in my bed alone | |
| And separation pains like a blunted amputation | |
| Pushing endless coins in the telephone | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down | |
| So rest in these open arms and lie until they come for you | |
| And tell me everything you' ve ever felt, tell me everything you want to see . . . | |
| Forever running even when we are standing still | |
| Driven on and fired up as the whirlwinds blow | |
| And shouting out inside " I' m proud of you, I' m proud of you" | |
| Ten thousand footsteps echo down the Brixton Road | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down |
| zuò cí : Heaton, Nice, Sullivan | |
| Stevie said now don' t look round they' re watching us | |
| Two girls in the corner of that dodgy club | |
| And the grey eyes, the storm that I' ve come to know and wish for | |
| Before I caught a breath, well, she was standing there. | |
| We walked the streets of our town just talking | |
| And the dawn broke grey and freezing through the deserted blocks | |
| Just when your life is stale and there' s reason there for everything | |
| Something comes to kick you up inside | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down | |
| No Rest for the wicked is still how it goes | |
| Twisted up and turning in my bed alone | |
| And separation pains like a blunted amputation | |
| Pushing endless coins in the telephone | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down | |
| So rest in these open arms and lie until they come for you | |
| And tell me everything you' ve ever felt, tell me everything you want to see . . . | |
| Forever running even when we are standing still | |
| Driven on and fired up as the whirlwinds blow | |
| And shouting out inside " I' m proud of you, I' m proud of you" | |
| Ten thousand footsteps echo down the Brixton Road | |
| Eleven sweet years and no nearer home | |
| A hundred thousands miles through this battle zone | |
| Still high on the wire above the hollow darkness | |
| Trying not to look down |
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