| Song | How Far We All Come Away |
| Artist | Phosphorescent |
| Album | A Hundred Times or More |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Houck | |
| in the hands of every bashful mother | |
| is a quiet delay some calm to recover | |
| accepting all kindness and blindness to all | |
| them who fire away demanding a reason | |
| and i'd never beckon or for one second dare | |
| ever call you away o but they sing, embracing, for you | |
| our bodies exhausted fall sideways to lay | |
| and your arms made a place where my face liked to bury | |
| then lifting (but not lifting) but drifting away | |
| to where the angels would play like you'd almost forgotten | |
| and then on with the next breath so impossibly new | |
| like the curve of your waist all warm and ceramic and smooth | |
| i dont want to go home | |
| i want to come home |
| zuo qu : Houck | |
| in the hands of every bashful mother | |
| is a quiet delay some calm to recover | |
| accepting all kindness and blindness to all | |
| them who fire away demanding a reason | |
| and i' d never beckon or for one second dare | |
| ever call you away o but they sing, embracing, for you | |
| our bodies exhausted fall sideways to lay | |
| and your arms made a place where my face liked to bury | |
| then lifting but not lifting but drifting away | |
| to where the angels would play like you' d almost forgotten | |
| and then on with the next breath so impossibly new | |
| like the curve of your waist all warm and ceramic and smooth | |
| i dont want to go home | |
| i want to come home |
| zuò qǔ : Houck | |
| in the hands of every bashful mother | |
| is a quiet delay some calm to recover | |
| accepting all kindness and blindness to all | |
| them who fire away demanding a reason | |
| and i' d never beckon or for one second dare | |
| ever call you away o but they sing, embracing, for you | |
| our bodies exhausted fall sideways to lay | |
| and your arms made a place where my face liked to bury | |
| then lifting but not lifting but drifting away | |
| to where the angels would play like you' d almost forgotten | |
| and then on with the next breath so impossibly new | |
| like the curve of your waist all warm and ceramic and smooth | |
| i dont want to go home | |
| i want to come home |