الكلمات الأصلية
ENالترجمة غير متاحة بعد. نعرض الكلمات الأصلية.
Standing on the shoulders of the morning
You can see the moon
That lonely sickle scrapes the sky
And it's rising on the widow's peak
Of the afternoon
And it's a long way home
Ashtrays are graveyards for the cigarettes you smoke
Second-hand spirits rise from the filter
Headed for heaven but they
Stop at the ceiling
And into the walls they soak
And it's a long way home
I caught you looking at yourself
Who could blame you?
I was looking at you to
Baby, all the things you are afraid of
Are not afraid of you
And it's a long way home
