Lirik Lagu In the Wee Small Hours of Sixpence [Mono Version] - Procol Harum
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TIPS PENCARIAN LIRIK FAVORIT ANDA
ANDA MENGETAHUI JUDUL DAN NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketikkan nama penyanyi dan judul lagu, berikan tanda kutip di judul lagu, misal: Yovie "Menjaga Hati";
- bila tidak berhasil, coba untuk mengilangkan tanda kutip, misal: Yovie Menjaga Hati; atau
- dapat juga dengan mengeklik menu A B C D.., lalu cari berdasarkan nama artis. Yovie dimulai dengan Y, klik Y. Lihat daftar lagu, dan dapatkan yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI NAMA PENYANYI
- Ketik nama penyanyi, misal: YOVIE, akan muncul banyak halaman, telusuri dan pilih dari halaman-halaman tersebut; atau
- klik menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis Y, cari Yovie, dan cari lirik yang Anda cari.
ANDA TAK MENGETAHUI JUDUL LAGU, TAPI MENGETAHUI SYAIR
- Ketikkan penggalan syair yang Anda ketahui, misal:
Tanpamu tiada berarti
Tak mampu lagi berdiri
Cahaya kasihmu menuntunku
Kembali dalam dekapan tanganmu - Masukkan kata-kata penting. Misal: tiada berarti berdiri cahaya dekapan.
- Hindari kata-kata yang berkemungkinan memiliki ada dua versi atau lebih. Misal: tanpamu dapat ditulis tanpa mu.
TETAP TIDAK DAPAT MENEMUKAN LIRIK YANG ANDA CARI
- Pilih menu A B C D E ... berdasarkan nama artis atau judul lagu.
- Bila masih tidak dapat menemukan lirik yang Anda cari, mungkin kami bisa membantu Anda. Silakan menghubungi kami.
In the wee small hours of sixpenceand the lighted chandelierstands a rusty old retainerwhose old eyes are filled with tearsfor his master, Good Sir Galant,who is now off to the warsAnd although his eyes are cryingwe know grief is not the causeAnd if grief is not the reasonhe must be of sterner stuffand his sword though old and rustymust be blunt as sharp enough
In the wee small hours of sixpenceand the broken window panestand the remnants of the eveningwho are waiting all in vainfor the crowing of the cockerelshowing morning is not nightBut the air is filled with silenceand the daylight is not brightBut still darkness is no reasonWe are men of sterner stuffand our swords though old and rustystill are blunt as sharp enough.
In the wee small hours of sixpenceand the hat-stand in the hallwaiting only for the morningshadows flitting 'cross the wallAnd perhaps that old retainerWhom now giving of his allmay have once been just as we areand now has no face at all.But still grief was not the reasonhe was made of sterner stuffand his sword though old and rustystill was blunt as sharp enough.
In the wee small hours of sixpenceand the broken window panestand the remnants of the eveningwho are waiting all in vainfor the crowing of the cockerelshowing morning is not nightBut the air is filled with silenceand the daylight is not brightBut still darkness is no reasonWe are men of sterner stuffand our swords though old and rustystill are blunt as sharp enough.
In the wee small hours of sixpenceand the hat-stand in the hallwaiting only for the morningshadows flitting 'cross the wallAnd perhaps that old retainerWhom now giving of his allmay have once been just as we areand now has no face at all.But still grief was not the reasonhe was made of sterner stuffand his sword though old and rustystill was blunt as sharp enough.
