Everything Is Still 歌词

	作曲 : Lang
	You've been feeling like an axle
	On a car that you don't trust
	You no longer want the journey
	But you tell yourself you must
	You plug it in to find the reason you do it for
	'Till the strings start scraping
	Sounds are shaping
	Sending out their chill
	Until the air is shaking
	And the movement's making
	Lines blur at their will
	Everything is still
	Fredericksburg's not too far away
	Heading down I-95
	Yeah, but Sundays got you crawling
	Slow enough to check your pulse
	Time zones stop the phone calls
	You know (too well) how that feels
	Waitress with 'too much' eye makeup
	Brings you your eight-buck meal
	You could almost bet
	The air's so wet you'd swear
	It oughta spill
	Flies buzz 'round the streetlights
	You've got nothing but time to kill
	Everything is still

	zuo qu : Lang
	You' ve been feeling like an axle
	On a car that you don' t trust
	You no longer want the journey
	But you tell yourself you must
	You plug it in to find the reason you do it for
	' Till the strings start scraping
	Sounds are shaping
	Sending out their chill
	Until the air is shaking
	And the movement' s making
	Lines blur at their will
	Everything is still
	Fredericksburg' s not too far away
	Heading down I95
	Yeah, but Sundays got you crawling
	Slow enough to check your pulse
	Time zones stop the phone calls
	You know too well how that feels
	Waitress with ' too much' eye makeup
	Brings you your eightbuck meal
	You could almost bet
	The air' s so wet you' d swear
	It oughta spill
	Flies buzz ' round the streetlights
	You' ve got nothing but time to kill
	Everything is still

	zuò qǔ : Lang
	You' ve been feeling like an axle
	On a car that you don' t trust
	You no longer want the journey
	But you tell yourself you must
	You plug it in to find the reason you do it for
	' Till the strings start scraping
	Sounds are shaping
	Sending out their chill
	Until the air is shaking
	And the movement' s making
	Lines blur at their will
	Everything is still
	Fredericksburg' s not too far away
	Heading down I95
	Yeah, but Sundays got you crawling
	Slow enough to check your pulse
	Time zones stop the phone calls
	You know too well how that feels
	Waitress with ' too much' eye makeup
	Brings you your eightbuck meal
	You could almost bet
	The air' s so wet you' d swear
	It oughta spill
	Flies buzz ' round the streetlights
	You' ve got nothing but time to kill
	Everything is still

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