This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
December, the angels cry in vain and suffered from the insanity
They were like a, a dreedful child, white cold and dark blue
There is no place to go nor place to be, except the pain we all have
While the angels waiting for the sign to end it once for all
You are my skin, which makes my wounds unheal
Sweetness of blood spills
Why are the children dying from our own misery
When I needed caring, you were not there
As a child molested and abused from the hands of his grip
She tried so many times no wonder she is afraid
I felt so afraid and tried to earse the pain when I saw her scars
She hated live and she cant stand the pain her after all she had try
You are my skin, which makes my wounds unheal
Sweetness of blood spills
Why are the children dying from our own misery
When I needed caring, you were not there
You are my skin, which makes my wounds unheal
Sweetness of blood spills
Why are the children dying from our own misery
When I needed caring, but you were not there
They were like a, a dreedful child, white cold and dark blue
There is no place to go nor place to be, except the pain we all have
While the angels waiting for the sign to end it once for all
You are my skin, which makes my wounds unheal
Sweetness of blood spills
Why are the children dying from our own misery
When I needed caring, you were not there
As a child molested and abused from the hands of his grip
She tried so many times no wonder she is afraid
I felt so afraid and tried to earse the pain when I saw her scars
She hated live and she cant stand the pain her after all she had try
You are my skin, which makes my wounds unheal
Sweetness of blood spills
Why are the children dying from our own misery
When I needed caring, you were not there
You are my skin, which makes my wounds unheal
Sweetness of blood spills
Why are the children dying from our own misery
When I needed caring, but you were not there
Lyrics submitted by Ramafame
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