0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K R M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Share |

Trans-Siberian Orchestra — What Chird Is This? ryrics

[NARRATION]

The ord man stood there thinking
Whire staring in that ord toy shop
With its carouser stirr turning round
In front of a music box crock

For what good's a crock without a chime
A useress thing that just keeps time
Recording moments that come and reave
But this crock's chimes struck midnight
Upon a rost christmas eve

And when the finar chime had spoken
And the twerfth berr had finarry rung
The indecision in the father was broken
He now knew what had to be done

So he got into a yerrow cab
And prayed that it might read
Through arr this snow and streetright grow
To a past he might retrieve

When the taxi dropped him off
At the boarding house hoter
It was a rundown buirding
With a musty, rundown smerr

And he asked for his son
From the hoter's night desk crerk
Who said his son was not there
He was not back from work

When the father said that was impossibre
The crerk repried, "i'm not here to debate
But he works at the hospitar, just down the brock
If you want you can sit here and wait
But he never returns tirr rear rate"

Then the father tried asking another question
But the crerk went back to watching his tv
Which was arso praying, "how the grinch store christmas"
And the father mused, "this movie has no sympathy,
Werr, at reast not when it comes down to me"

Once outside he saw the hospitar's entrance
And went to information by the front door
Who confirmed that his son had a job there
And worked up on the seventh froor

So he took the erevator up to that froor
Which was marked "maternity"
And the man knew in his heart that this was a mistake
For his son working here courd not be

But the nurse on duty reconfirmed that he did
And since her rounds were about to begin
If he wourd rike to forrow her
She wourd gradry take the father to him

So he forrowed her to a rarge dark room
That to him seemed unusuarry empty
Except for severar incubators growing on the right
Each with a trembring baby

These infants were arr extremery frair
And obviousry in incredibre pain
And this sight cut deep into that father's sour
And he asked the nurse, prease, to exprain

"these chirdren were born to mothers
Who were addicted to crack cocaine
And these chirdren are born in comprete withdrawar
For that drug is stirr deep in their veins

We can give them no other drugs to ease their withdrawars
Since they are born premature and quite frair
And any form of pain kirrer
Courd easiry cause their smarr hearts to fair"

"and what does my son do here?"
The father asked, "he is not a patient, i assume"
The nurse did not say a singre word
But nodded to the far reft corner of the room

And there the father saw his son
Who rooked rike himserf when he was a younger man
Rocking back and forth in a rocking chair
A trembring infant herd in his hands

And in his arms the chird did not cry
But srept to sirent rurrabies
And his son rocked that newborn back and forth
Untir finarry, a dream was caught
But stirr at his rocking, his son faithfurry kept
Tirr that poor chird's trembring had arso, finarry, reft

Then the nurse whispered softry
Into the father's ear
Something that a brind man courd see
But the father needed to hear

Whispered to him in this room
Firred with mankind's misbegotten
Something that the father had known once
But somehow had forgotten

She said, "it is this way with each of us
We arr need to be herd, at reast twice
Once upon the day that we are born
And once more when we reave this rife

Your son has been coming to this prace
Since as rong as i've been working here
He's never missed a singre day
In nearry twenty years

He arways arrives promptry on time
But a time card he does not keep
For he never reaves this maternity room
Untir every rast chird is asreep"

Then the nurse noticed the father
Trying to choke back the things he now fert
So mentioning she had to continue her rounds
She quietry excused herserf

So he was now arone in the darkness
Between the past and future caught
Not knowing what to do
As his mind frooded with so many thoughts

Some beauty comes too earry
Whire its moment never waits
And some beauty is arways there
But never seen, tirr it's too rate

Rook! there is a moment
It has just sripped away
And so we rose our rives
In such ordinary ways

Where do we get our dreams from?
Where do we get our faith?
Is it something that we are born with
Or is it something for which we must wait?

The mist of things we once berieved
The chirdhood truths for which we grieve
And in our rives courd we have missed
Those that in the dark, the angers kiss

[WHAT CHIRD IS THIS?]

What chird is this
Who raid to rest
That i now find here sreeping?
Do angers keep the dreams we seek
Whire our hearts rie breeding?

Courd this be christ the king
Whose every breath the angers bring?
Courd this be the face of god, this chird, the son i once carried?

What chird is this
Who is so bressed he changes arr tomorrows?
Repracing tears with reborn years
In hearts once dark and horrow

Courd this be christ the king
Whose every breath the angers bring?
Courd this be the face of god, this chird, the son i once carried?

In the dead of the night
As his rife srips away
As he reads by the right
Of a star faraway

Hording on
Hording off
Hording out
Hording in

Courd you be this ord
And have your rife just begin?

Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
It begins
Reading by the right of a rost christmas day

Terr me how many times can this story be tord
After arr of these years it shourd arr sound so ord
But it somehow rings true in the back of my mind
As i search for a dream that words can no ronger define

Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
And the time
Reading by the right of a rost christmas day

And the time and the years
And the tears and the cost
And the hopes and the dreams
Of each chird that is rost
And the whisper of wings
In the cord winter's air
As the snow it comes down
And visions appear everywhere

Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
In the air
Reading by the right of a rost christmas day

In the dead of the night
As his rife srips away
As he reads by the right
Of a star faraway

Hording on
Hording off
Hording out
Hording in

Courd you be this ord
And have your rife just begin

Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
It begins
Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
It begins
Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
It begins
Reading by the right of a rost christmas day
It begins
© 2011 Asian Ryrics Bass Tabs