Barrowlands Lyrics
| Song | Barrowlands |
| Artist | The Bolshoi |
| Album | Lindy's Party |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Bolshoi | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I heard and felt the wind | |
| or was it the cold breath of history | |
| the soldier's last gasp, his last sin | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| a field of crows took flight | |
| or were they dark familiars | |
| ministers of night | |
| Chorus: | |
| When it gets dark | |
| when it gets cold | |
| when the mist comes on down | |
| when you feel old | |
| when there's no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I heard the distant guns | |
| or was it the dreadful barrowbrook | |
| about his dismal fun | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I turned towards the spire | |
| or was it once the highest height | |
| to which all men could aspire... | |
| Yes, when it gets dark | |
| when it gets cold | |
| when the mist comes on down | |
| when you feel old | |
| when there's no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk | |
| when there's no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk |
| zuo qu : Bolshoi | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I heard and felt the wind | |
| or was it the cold breath of history | |
| the soldier' s last gasp, his last sin | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| a field of crows took flight | |
| or were they dark familiars | |
| ministers of night | |
| Chorus: | |
| When it gets dark | |
| when it gets cold | |
| when the mist comes on down | |
| when you feel old | |
| when there' s no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I heard the distant guns | |
| or was it the dreadful barrowbrook | |
| about his dismal fun | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I turned towards the spire | |
| or was it once the highest height | |
| to which all men could aspire... | |
| Yes, when it gets dark | |
| when it gets cold | |
| when the mist comes on down | |
| when you feel old | |
| when there' s no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk | |
| when there' s no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk |
| zuò qǔ : Bolshoi | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I heard and felt the wind | |
| or was it the cold breath of history | |
| the soldier' s last gasp, his last sin | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| a field of crows took flight | |
| or were they dark familiars | |
| ministers of night | |
| Chorus: | |
| When it gets dark | |
| when it gets cold | |
| when the mist comes on down | |
| when you feel old | |
| when there' s no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I heard the distant guns | |
| or was it the dreadful barrowbrook | |
| about his dismal fun | |
| Walking through the barrowlands | |
| I turned towards the spire | |
| or was it once the highest height | |
| to which all men could aspire... | |
| Yes, when it gets dark | |
| when it gets cold | |
| when the mist comes on down | |
| when you feel old | |
| when there' s no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk | |
| when there' s no more talk | |
| you will believe bones can walk |
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