A Perfect Indian 来自专辑《穿过骨头抚摸你》的一首。Sinead O'Connor ，爱尔兰女歌手。

歌声里有淡淡的忧伤，阴郁。朋友说这是一首不能常听的好歌。但是我常常反复地听上个小时。骨头里的寂寞一丝丝全部爬出来，吞筮我。至泪流满面。也许这是折磨。也许这也是排解的方法。她细腻忧伤的吟唱。抚摸了寂寞的心。

A Perfect Indian is he
Remembering him life is sweet
Like a weeping willow
His face on my pillow
Comes to me still in my dreams
And there I saw a young baby
A beautiful daughter was she
A face from a painting
Red cheeks and teeth aching
Her eyes like a wild Irish sea
On a table in her yellow dress
For a photograph feigned happiness
Why in my life is that the only time
That any of you will smile at me
I'm sailing on this terrible ocean
I've come for my self to retrieve
Too long have I been feeling like Lir's children
And there's only one way to be free
He's shy and he speaks quietly
He's gentle and he seems to me
Like the elf-arrow
His face worn and harrowed
Is he a daydreamer like me

烛影荡漾,帘布摇曳,晚风扑面的午夜~独自聆听~~

躲着黑漆漆的角落.亦可以自在聆听...

只是这样的时刻不能常有..越来越发现自己有点自闭倾向了..危险..

我也最喜欢这首呢，换了链接，再加一曲。

《穿》成了某种天作之合……将一种独特的性格与它黏在一起，在时光的洪流中醍醐灌顶，犹有喜悦