原文歌詞
EN翻訳はまだありません。原文を表示しています。
Pluck the brightest fruit from the wooden arm
Furthest from the road on the apple farm.
Carve an applehead man, put him on the fence.
You can hear him tell his apple friends,
"Yes I grew up sweet till I fell from the tree,
Things have gotten bad, take one look at me.
