
在手机上保存,获得更好体验
The radio was burning gold We never thought we’d get this old Just a couple of kids with a beat-up van Running fast as a young heart can. But the summer fade and the winter came And nobody here remembers my name...
We built this town in sixty-seven Now the bricks are wearing thin. Every Sunday we keep asking When will we see you in heaven? When will we see you again?
Well, the paint is peeling off the door And we don't sing those lullabies no more! We traded the flowers for a steel guitar Trying to find out who we really are. Yeah, the road is long and the wheels are rust But we’re still moving through the cloud of dust!
We built this town in sixty-seven! Now the bricks are wearing thin! Every Sunday we keep asking When will we see you in heaven? When will we see you again? (Yeah, tell me when!)
They say the dream is over! (It ain't over!) They say the music died! (It never died!) I’m still waiting on the corner With my pockets full of pride! Can I get a witness? I said, CAN I GET A WITNESS?
WE BUILT THIS TOWN IN SIXTY-SEVEN! NOW THE BRICKS ARE WEARING THIN! (So thin!) EVERY SUNDAY WE KEEP ASKING WHEN WILL WE SEE YOU IN HEAVEN? WHEN WILL WE SEE YOU AGAIN?
"SIXTY-SEVEN!"