Meanwhile My Mother Lyrics

	作词 : Hammill
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	waiting for what?
	I don't know...
	The recall of a favourite memory,
	or perhaps for a painful one to go?
	She doesn't let that much show.
	Meanwhile, above her head
	all my monologues flows.
	"What's that you're saying, dear?"
	Wading through time like it's treacle,
	her eyes looking into mine although
	she won't even notice me go.
	In the meantime I pack her things up
	and get them ready to store;
	in between times I take a good look around,
	for we'll not be visiting here much more.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	distance encamped in her eyes,
	not quite oblivious but
	close to a state of inertia
	in which she won't even realise
	how everything's passing her by.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	lost in a world of her own,
	turns to look out of the window
	down to the verdant earth below.
	Some journeys we make alone
	somehow we'll leave all we've known.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	waiting for what?
	Time to go.

	zuo ci : Hammill
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	waiting for what?
	I don' t know...
	The recall of a favourite memory,
	or perhaps for a painful one to go?
	She doesn' t let that much show.
	Meanwhile, above her head
	all my monologues flows.
	" What' s that you' re saying, dear?"
	Wading through time like it' s treacle,
	her eyes looking into mine although
	she won' t even notice me go.
	In the meantime I pack her things up
	and get them ready to store
	in between times I take a good look around,
	for we' ll not be visiting here much more.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	distance encamped in her eyes,
	not quite oblivious but
	close to a state of inertia
	in which she won' t even realise
	how everything' s passing her by.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	lost in a world of her own,
	turns to look out of the window
	down to the verdant earth below.
	Some journeys we make alone
	somehow we' ll leave all we' ve known.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	waiting for what?
	Time to go.

	zuò cí : Hammill
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	waiting for what?
	I don' t know...
	The recall of a favourite memory,
	or perhaps for a painful one to go?
	She doesn' t let that much show.
	Meanwhile, above her head
	all my monologues flows.
	" What' s that you' re saying, dear?"
	Wading through time like it' s treacle,
	her eyes looking into mine although
	she won' t even notice me go.
	In the meantime I pack her things up
	and get them ready to store
	in between times I take a good look around,
	for we' ll not be visiting here much more.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	distance encamped in her eyes,
	not quite oblivious but
	close to a state of inertia
	in which she won' t even realise
	how everything' s passing her by.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	lost in a world of her own,
	turns to look out of the window
	down to the verdant earth below.
	Some journeys we make alone
	somehow we' ll leave all we' ve known.
	Meanwhile, my mother,
	waiting for what?
	Time to go.

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