They're Bad, But We're Worse 歌词
| 歌曲 | They're Bad, But We're Worse |
| 歌手 | Half-Handed Cloud |
| 专辑 | Halos + Lassos |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Ringhofer | |
| I'm about to faint | |
| No one remembers You | |
| When they're dead | |
| Or praises You from the grave | |
| I can't sing if I'm six-feet-under | |
| Weeping | |
| And it's flooding | |
| In my bedroom | |
| Tear ducts running | |
| You list each one within your record | |
| Enter tears into your ledger | |
| Consider all our sighs | |
| We lay requests before in expectation | |
| My thoughts trouble me | |
| But so do gaping stares of the wicked | |
| Open up their mouth-throat | |
| It's an open grave | |
| It's a misquote | |
| They love each harmful word | |
| Whatever is unbefitting | |
| And the fuzz won't quit | |
| We have sinned today | |
| Even our fathers did | |
| We traded-in the God of Glory | |
| For an image of a cow that eats the pasture | |
| Offered as a sacrifice | |
| All our children | |
| To the demon | |
| We've hurt a lot | |
| And hurt a lot of kinship | |
| Pry us loose from this grip |
| zuo qu : Ringhofer | |
| I' m about to faint | |
| No one remembers You | |
| When they' re dead | |
| Or praises You from the grave | |
| I can' t sing if I' m sixfeetunder | |
| Weeping | |
| And it' s flooding | |
| In my bedroom | |
| Tear ducts running | |
| You list each one within your record | |
| Enter tears into your ledger | |
| Consider all our sighs | |
| We lay requests before in expectation | |
| My thoughts trouble me | |
| But so do gaping stares of the wicked | |
| Open up their mouththroat | |
| It' s an open grave | |
| It' s a misquote | |
| They love each harmful word | |
| Whatever is unbefitting | |
| And the fuzz won' t quit | |
| We have sinned today | |
| Even our fathers did | |
| We tradedin the God of Glory | |
| For an image of a cow that eats the pasture | |
| Offered as a sacrifice | |
| All our children | |
| To the demon | |
| We' ve hurt a lot | |
| And hurt a lot of kinship | |
| Pry us loose from this grip |
| zuò qǔ : Ringhofer | |
| I' m about to faint | |
| No one remembers You | |
| When they' re dead | |
| Or praises You from the grave | |
| I can' t sing if I' m sixfeetunder | |
| Weeping | |
| And it' s flooding | |
| In my bedroom | |
| Tear ducts running | |
| You list each one within your record | |
| Enter tears into your ledger | |
| Consider all our sighs | |
| We lay requests before in expectation | |
| My thoughts trouble me | |
| But so do gaping stares of the wicked | |
| Open up their mouththroat | |
| It' s an open grave | |
| It' s a misquote | |
| They love each harmful word | |
| Whatever is unbefitting | |
| And the fuzz won' t quit | |
| We have sinned today | |
| Even our fathers did | |
| We tradedin the God of Glory | |
| For an image of a cow that eats the pasture | |
| Offered as a sacrifice | |
| All our children | |
| To the demon | |
| We' ve hurt a lot | |
| And hurt a lot of kinship | |
| Pry us loose from this grip |
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