[00:00.00] 作曲 : Burrows, Havas, Jones
[01:04.71]He tried to say
[01:05.01]That she meant nothing at all
[01:05.55]Walk down the rivers
[01:07.47]And under bridges
[01:08.91]The bells mocked foolishly... foolishly
[01:10.98]Walk down the rivers
[01:13.56]And under bridges
[01:17.10]The bells mocked foolishly... foolishly
[01:19.02]Like dry leaves through scarce memories
[01:20.49]She would reach to him from the deep
[01:59.91]He believed
[02:00.33]She rides the waves
[02:00.69]That whisper up the shores
[02:01.23]Her crescent figure
[02:01.77]Through green waters glimmered
[02:02.37]The dream glossed estuary... estuary
[02:21.15]Her crescent figure
[02:21.63]Through green waters glimmed
[02:22.20]The dream glossed estuary... estuary
[02:31.77]Like dry leaves through scarce memories
[02:38.04]She would reach to him from the deep
[02:39.33]He believed
[02:39.57]The woodcutter he stared
[02:40.08]Towards the eastern coves
[02:40.65]With eyes to stroke
[02:54.09]The torrid wave beaten shores
[03:27.99]From the horizon
[03:30.33]Of nowhere she glided
[03:32.67]Her oak breast cut the sea... cut the sea
[03:54.42]Like dry leaves through scarce memories
[03:56.73]She would reach to him from the deep
[04:27.18]He believed
[04:27.42]The woodcutter he stared
[04:27.93]Towards the eastern coves

作曲 : Burrows, Havas, Jones
He tried to say
That she meant nothing at all
Walk down the rivers
And under bridges
The bells mocked foolishly... foolishly
Walk down the rivers
And under bridges
The bells mocked foolishly... foolishly
Like dry leaves through scarce memories
She would reach to him from the deep
He believed
She rides the waves
That whisper up the shores
Her crescent figure
Through green waters glimmered
The dream glossed estuary... estuary
Her crescent figure
Through green waters glimmed
The dream glossed estuary... estuary
Like dry leaves through scarce memories
She would reach to him from the deep
He believed
The woodcutter he stared
Towards the eastern coves
With eyes to stroke
The torrid wave beaten shores
From the horizon
Of nowhere she glided
Her oak breast cut the sea... cut the sea
Like dry leaves through scarce memories
She would reach to him from the deep
He believed
The woodcutter he stared
Towards the eastern coves