Esta é a versão antiga da Dying Days. A nova versão está em http://dyingdays.net. Estamos gradualmente migrando o conteúdo deste site antigo para o novo. Até o término desse trabalho, a versão antiga da Dying Days continuará disponível aqui em http://v1.dyingdays.net.


arquivo
letras traduzidas
Home | Bandas | Letras | Reviews | MP3 | Fale Conosco

Letras: Besides From Buffalo Tom


Neil_Young_Mirrorball.jpg (16635 bytes)

01. Witches
02. For All To See
03. She Belongs To Me
04. Bumble Bee
05. Never Noticed
06. The Way Back
07. Sally Brown
08. Hawaiian Baby
09. Butterscotch
10. Wah-Wah
11. Anchors Aweigh
12. Breathe
13. The Spider And The Fly
14. Clouds
15. Cupid Come
16. Does This Mean You're Not My Friend
17. Guiding Star
18. All Tomorrow's Parties


Witches

[Não disponível]


For All To See

[Não disponível]


She Belongs To Me
(Bob Dylan
)

She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She's got everything she needs,
She's an artist, she don't look back.
She can take the dark out of the nighttime
And paint the daytime black.

You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees.
You will start out standing
Proud to steal her anything she sees.
But you will wind up peeking through her keyhole
Down upon your knees.

She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She never stumbles,
She's got no place to fall.
She's nobody's child,
The Law can't touch her at all.

She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks.
She wears an Egyptian ring
That sparkles before she speaks.
She's a hypnotist collector,
You are a walking antique.

Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
Bow down to her on Sunday,
Salute her when her birthday comes.
For Halloween give her a trumpet
And for Christmas, buy her a drum.


Bumble Bee

[Não disponível]


never noticed

[Não disponível]


The Way Back

[Não disponível]


Sally Brown

[Não disponível]


Hawaiian Baby
(Rebecca Gates/Scott Plouf)

This is a picture of Hawaii that you brought me
Santa Claus with a baby that you brought me
Standing by the back screen door watching you wash dishes
Writing love letters to other just for kicks

Moving down on Taylor
Dinner with your father
Looking for a mailbox
Someone's rolling in the mud
Someone does it just because it's cool on their skin

This is a picture of a cowboy that he drew me
Letters scrawled across the bottom spell "I love you"
This is a taste of your right ear lobe can't you hear me
This is a taste of your left elbow don't you feel it

It's my heart and it doesn't fit yours

Graham's down at the bar teaching hardships
Verlaines, verlaines, verlaines...
Trucker speed and the harm of having loose lips
Six days, Six days...
Sex and cigarettes and slow sad says he
Verlaines, verlaines, verlaines...
Santa Claus with a baby that you brought me

It's my heart and it doesn't fit yours

Moving down on Taylor
Dinner with your father
Searching for a mailbox
Someone's slinging up the mud
Someone does it just because it's not on their skin


Butterscotch

[Não disponível]


Wah-Wah
(George Harrison)

Wah-wah
You've given me a wah-wah
And I'm thinking of you
And all the things that we used to do
Wah-wah, wah-wah

Wah-wah
You made me such a big star
Being there at the right time
Cheaper than a dime
Wah-wah, you've given me your wah-wah, wah-wah

Oh, you don't see me crying
Oh, you don't hear me sighing

Wah-wah
I don't need no wah-wah
And I know how sweet life can be
If I keep myself free from the wah-wah
I don't need no wah-wah

Oh, you don't see me crying
Hey baby, you don't hear me sighing
Oh, no no-no no

Wah-wah
Now I don't need no wah-wah's
And I know how sweet life can be
If I keep myself free - of wah-wah
I don't need no wah-wah

Wah-wah (repeat and fade)


Anchors Aweigh

[Não disponível]


Breathe

[Não disponível]


The Spider And The Fly
(Jagger / Richards)

Sittin' thinkin' sinkin' drinkin'
Wond'ring what I'll do when I'm through tonight
Smokin' mopin' maybe just hopin'
Some little girl will pass on by
To wanna be alone
But I love my girl at home
I remember what she said
She said, My! My! My!
Don't tell lies!
Keep fidelity in your head!
My! My! My! Don't tell lies!
When you've done your show go to bed
Don't say Hi! like a spider to a fly
Jump right ahead and you're dead!

Sit up fed up low down go 'round
Down to the bar at the place I'm at
Sittin' drinkin' superficially thinkin'
About the rins'd out blonde on my left
And then I said Hi! like a spider to a fly
Rememb'ring what my little girl said
She was coming flirty
She look'd about thirty
I would have run away, but I was on my own
She told me later she's a machine operator
She said she liked the way I held the microphone
I said, My! My! My! Like a spider to a fly
Jump right ahead in my web!


Clouds

[Não disponível]


Cupid Come
(Sheilds/Butcher)

Cupid come from coffee cup
Sickly heavy heart
Semi-set adrift in your
Lifted sugar eye
Come back down I'm waiting here
And lick me with your fire
Connected silver tounges
Our lips beside

Everytime I look at you
Pins me to the ground
Mirror me your memories please
And let me help you down
Swallow me into your bed
With glimpses of your thighs
Forget your vanity
Come cupid come


Does This Mean You're Not My Friend

[Não disponível]


Guiding Star
(Gerard Love
)

When everything you own is lost
And every friendship has its cost;
Your rolling stone has gathered moss

And all your clouds cover the sun
And all your karma has undone
Remember you're my number one.

Hey! You're my guiding star;
I do know who you are,
You're my guiding star.

Don't you think you've heard this song before?
Jesus Christ was knocking at my door
Kinda like the way he wears his hair.
Kinda like the way he walks on air.
Could his golden halo
Be the sun we all know?


All Tomorrow's Parties
(Lou Reed)

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
A hand-me-down dress from who knows where
To all tomorrow's parties

And where will she go and what shall she do
When midnight comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
Why silks and linens of yesterday's gowns
To all tomorrow's parties

And what will she do with Thursday's rags
When Monday comes around
She'll turn once more to Sunday's clown
And cry behind the door

And what costume shall the poor girl wear
To all tomorrow's parties
For Thursday's child is Sunday's clown
For whom none will go mourning

A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown
Of rags and silks, a costume
Fit for one who sits and cries
For all tomorrow's parties