Had like poor job in the Bible by god

作词：Rufus Wainwright

作曲：Rufus Wainwright

Your skin is cold

But the sun shines within your hold

Your hair is gold

But you see through a goldfish bowl

I feel old sick and tired

We walk the streets gently staring

Wondering what to do

The sun in sheets

Pouring down those streets

To eyes green and blue

And a ship with eight sails

Could come round the bend

Or a herd of bulls charging stop lights red

I be blind

You broke my heart danny boy

Not your fault danny boy

I was hanged at the doorstep

Played like a two to a fourset

Had like poor job in the Bible by god

Day comes I wake

I wake with a hard heartache

I go down to your place

We sit and chat chat about new york

And trips to the bayou

My smile a trick tricking me

And trying not to scare you

And a ship with eight sails

Could come round the ben

Or a herd of bulls charging stop lights red

I be blind

You broke my heart danny boy

Not your fault danny boy

I was hanged at the doorstep

Played like a two to a fourset

Firse I was hanged at the doorstep

Had like a two to a fourset

Played like poor job in the Bible by god