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Beirut
Beirut


Информация
Откуда Santa Fe, New Mexico, United States
Жанры World music
Indie Folk
Electronica
Годы 2006—н.в.
См. также Owen Pallett
Alaska in Winter
A Hawk and a Hacksaw
Kocani Orkestar
The Silent League
Сайт Website
Состав
Perrin Cloutier
Hari Ziznewski
Jason Poranski
Nick Petree
Kristin Ferebee
Paul Collins
Jon Natchez
Kelly Pratt
Tracy Pratt
Ben Lanz
Lucy Blyth
Zach Condon
Бывшие участники
Heather Trost
Jeremy Barnes



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  B  →  Beirut  →  Дискография  →  The Flying Club Cup

Альбом Beirut


The Flying Club Cup (09.10.2007)
09.10.2007
1.
A Call To Arms (instrumental)
2.
3.
4.
5.
La Banlieu
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
. . .

A Call To Arms

[Нет текста]

. . .



Well it's been a long time, long time now
since I've seen you smile
and I'll gamble away my fright
and I'll gamble away my time
and in a year, a year or so
this will slip into the sea
well it's been a long time, long time now
since I've seen you smile

nobody raise their voices
just another night to mourn to
nobody raise their voices
just another night to mourn to


. . .


all I want is the best for our lives my dear,
and you know my wishes are sincere.
whats to say for the days I cannot bare.

a sunday smile you wore it for a while.
a sunday mile we paused and sang.
a sunday smile you wore it for a while.
a sunday mile we paused and sang.
a sunday smile and we felt true. (and)

we burnt to the ground
left for you to admire
with buildings inside church of white.
we burnt to the ground left a grave to admire.
and as we reach for the sky, reach the church of white.

a sunday smile you wore it for a while.
a sunday mile we paused and sang.
a sunday smile you wore it for a while.
a sunday mile we paused and sang.
a sunday smile and we felt true.

. . .


In the hall I heard your faints falling,
your trial and my corrections made.

You have all the prayers of my loose heart.
You have all the prayers of .

No I was not there on the church stairs.
The wind in my hair, a flood through my tear

. . .

La Banlieu

[Нет текста]

. . .



A plague in the workhouse
A plague on the poor now
I feed on my drum 'til I'm dead
Yesterday, fever
Tomorrow, St. Peter
I'll feed on my drum until then

What melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?

Set fire the foundation
And burn out the station
You'll never get nothing of mine
The pane of my window
Will flicker and glimmer
Leave only the stitching behind (?)

Oh, what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
What melody will see him in my arms again?

I'll sing of the walls of the well
And the house at the top of the hill
I'll sing of the bottles of wine
That we left on our old windowsill
I'll sing of the usual spin
Getting sadder and older, oh love


. . .



Like an ancient day and I'm on trial
Let them seize the way, this once was an island
And I could not stay for I believed them
Left for the lights always in season

Impassable night in a crowd of homesick
Fully grown children, you'll leave the lights
Your family may not wait, Sir, keep on believing
Our parents rue the day, they find us kneeling
Let them think what they may, for they've good reason
Left for the lights always in season


. . .


Uptown, the street's in a calming way
And outside is warm as a bed with a maid
And I find it's all our waves and raves
That makes the days go on this way

I heard the sad sound of words
Spoken from a beak of a wise old bird
Uptown, the streets are kept afloat
Our ground never leaves me alone

He means well, saying,
I've got stories of wine, superb
And of course my childhood, forks and knives
And a hospital bed, where I turned my life over and over again

. . .


Time travels to learn
your secret life
in your mausoleum

And Berlin
is so ugly in the morning light
but with them
I could never feel so right

. . .


Come sit at the table
under October's able skies

once we'd seen eye to eye
I'd known that I'd pass you by
and I tried

the bells chime
seven times
completed at nine
the world moves slower I find

No, but I
learned of time
by your hands

and in shadow water's end
I learned not to swim,
but to lie-I
I wait for for mountain
in twenty-two third hour
I insist on doubt
we're already laying on the grass
the grass

. . .


And a fall from you
is a long way down
I've found a better way out
And a fall from you
is a long way down
I know a better way out

Well it's been a long time
since I've seen you smile
Gambled away my fright
Till the morning lights shine
x2

Sunday morning
only fog on the limbs
I called it again
what do you know
And I filled our days
with cards and gin
You're alight again, my dear

I will lead the way, oh, lead the way
When I know
And I'll sleep away, oh, sweep away
What I don't
Well sieze the way, oh, sieze the way
No, I won't
I will lead the way, oh, lead the day
When I know

. . .


All these saints that I move without
I lose without in vain
All these saints, they move without
They moved without again
Well, all these places will lose without
They lose without a name

. . .


I built my house of reeds upon a marsh in Elise
My father was released a day's walk from San Denise
We buried him beneath the bone-white sands of San Denise

Silence of an airborne night
Push high above the roof
Daughters of the Red lights blind
The icy works of art
The city lights and restless nights
Go once upon the Lord
You and I will lie beside the fire sparked from boards

It's yours

. . .


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