Biografia:
Morphine foi uma banda de low rock e alt jazz formada pelo vocalista e baixista Mark Sandman, o saxofonista Dana Colley e o baterista Billy Conway em Cambridge, Massachussets, Estados Unidos, no ano de 1989. A banda combinou elementos do jazz e do blues com arranjos tradicionais do rock, gerando um estilo próprio de música, na medida em que não contava com um guitarrista e o baixo de Mark Sandman possuía, na maior parte das apresentações, apenas duas cordas de violoncelo, afinadas em oitavas.
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Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
[Intro] Bbm Ab Fm C/E Fm Ab/Eb Db
[Verse 1]
Bbm Ab Fm C/E
You're the night, Lilah. A little girl lost in the woods.
Fm Ab/Eb Db
You're a folk tale, the unexplainable
[Chorus 1]
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
I hope you're waiting for me cause I can't make it on my own.
C/G Fm
I can't make it on my own.
[Verse 2]
Bbm Ab Fm C/E
It's too dark to see the landmarks. I don't want your good luck charms.
Fm Ab/Eb Db
I hope you're waiting for me across your carpet of stars.
Bbm Ab Fm C/E
You're the night, Lilah. You're everything that we can't see.
Fm Ab/Eb Db
Lilah, you're impossibility.
[Chorus 1]
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
I hope you're waiting for me cause I can't make it on my own.
C/G Fm
I can't make it on my own.
[Instrumental] (Bbm Ab Fm C/E Fm Ab/Eb Db)x2 (faintly 2nd time)
[Verse 3]
Bbm Ab
Unknown the unlit world of old. You're the sounds I never heard before.
Fm C/E
Off the map where the wild things grow. Another world outside my door.
Fm Ab/Eb
Here I stand I'm all alone. Drive me down the pitch black road.
Db
Lilah you're my only home and I can't make it on my own.
[Chorus 2]
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
And I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
C/G Fm
I can make it on my own.
[Outro]
Fm
You're the paint can falling off the wall at the door that slams at the end
C/E
of the hall where the kid rings sounds of basketball. The battle of the
Fm
earth of the angels. The shifting snow drifts so realistic, so realistic - call you
of stars. See there is something in the yard. It's awful dark. With the painted strings, the
the good luck charm, the prayer, the extra layer. The group ???...
[Verse 1]
Bbm Ab Fm C/E
You're the night, Lilah. A little girl lost in the woods.
Fm Ab/Eb Db
You're a folk tale, the unexplainable
[Chorus 1]
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
I hope you're waiting for me cause I can't make it on my own.
C/G Fm
I can't make it on my own.
[Verse 2]
Bbm Ab Fm C/E
It's too dark to see the landmarks. I don't want your good luck charms.
Fm Ab/Eb Db
I hope you're waiting for me across your carpet of stars.
Bbm Ab Fm C/E
You're the night, Lilah. You're everything that we can't see.
Fm Ab/Eb Db
Lilah, you're impossibility.
[Chorus 1]
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
I hope you're waiting for me cause I can't make it on my own.
C/G Fm
I can't make it on my own.
[Instrumental] (Bbm Ab Fm C/E Fm Ab/Eb Db)x2 (faintly 2nd time)
[Verse 3]
Bbm Ab
Unknown the unlit world of old. You're the sounds I never heard before.
Fm C/E
Off the map where the wild things grow. Another world outside my door.
Fm Ab/Eb
Here I stand I'm all alone. Drive me down the pitch black road.
Db
Lilah you're my only home and I can't make it on my own.
[Chorus 2]
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
Bbm Ab C/G Fm
And I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
C/G Fm
I can make it on my own.
[Outro]
Fm
You're the paint can falling off the wall at the door that slams at the end
C/E
of the hall where the kid rings sounds of basketball. The battle of the
Fm
earth of the angels. The shifting snow drifts so realistic, so realistic - call you
of stars. See there is something in the yard. It's awful dark. With the painted strings, the
the good luck charm, the prayer, the extra layer. The group ???...
Moses Sumney
Mota
Motel
Mother Mother
Motherfolk