Nights of the Living Dead 歌词
| 歌曲 | Nights of the Living Dead |
| 歌手 | Tilly and the Wall |
| 专辑 | Wild Like Children |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Tilly And The Wall | |
| Oh the high school kids they're all fucked up | |
| Touching each other, oh my god | |
| Yeah and forty ounces was never enough | |
| We want to pass out in your yard | |
| We want to pass out | |
| Dressing in drag your best friend's clothes | |
| While boys kissed boys in hotel rooms | |
| Oh and just when we thought we were no longer lost | |
| They kicked us out into the dirty streets of Atlanta | |
| So it's Friday night down on North Avenue | |
| Where gas station parking lot prostitutes | |
| Tried to fix their hair in our rearview mirrors | |
| You know we're just trying to get to the club and shake our asses | |
| A caravan of kids, some big old mess | |
| On an old wooden dock, oh we're bored to death | |
| We've got a bottle of wine, a fresh pack of smokes | |
| We're going to end up screaming about some midnight garage sale | |
| So god, put down your gun, can't you see we're dead? | |
| God, put down your hand, we're not listening | |
| Oh, the microphone cut off so we're screaming at the top of our lungs | |
| You are born so fresh, a golden prize | |
| Until you scrape that knee and quickly realize | |
| That you're lost in a fog on your way to death | |
| Oh a thick black line, a thick black line | |
| So you better speak up, better raise that voice | |
| Come on, scream loud all you girls and boys | |
| Let's get wild, wild, wild, let's rejoice | |
| Come on, come on | |
| I want to hear that fucking noise | |
| Oh the push and pull of everything | |
| Oh this nightmare of electricity | |
| We are the living dead, yeah the living dead | |
| That's the way it is | |
| That's the way it's always been | |
| Oh that snake slithered past my house today | |
| Oh I heard he caught you on a dark highway | |
| No the clouds didn't part they just grew into a storm | |
| I can still hear the sound of the rolling thunder (thunder!) | |
| God, put down your gun, can't you see we're dead? | |
| God, put down your hand, we're not listening | |
| God, put down your gun, can't you see we're dead? | |
| I said, god, put down your hand, we're not listening | |
| Oh, we never were | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel |
| zuo ci : Tilly And The Wall | |
| Oh the high school kids they' re all fucked up | |
| Touching each other, oh my god | |
| Yeah and forty ounces was never enough | |
| We want to pass out in your yard | |
| We want to pass out | |
| Dressing in drag your best friend' s clothes | |
| While boys kissed boys in hotel rooms | |
| Oh and just when we thought we were no longer lost | |
| They kicked us out into the dirty streets of Atlanta | |
| So it' s Friday night down on North Avenue | |
| Where gas station parking lot prostitutes | |
| Tried to fix their hair in our rearview mirrors | |
| You know we' re just trying to get to the club and shake our asses | |
| A caravan of kids, some big old mess | |
| On an old wooden dock, oh we' re bored to death | |
| We' ve got a bottle of wine, a fresh pack of smokes | |
| We' re going to end up screaming about some midnight garage sale | |
| So god, put down your gun, can' t you see we' re dead? | |
| God, put down your hand, we' re not listening | |
| Oh, the microphone cut off so we' re screaming at the top of our lungs | |
| You are born so fresh, a golden prize | |
| Until you scrape that knee and quickly realize | |
| That you' re lost in a fog on your way to death | |
| Oh a thick black line, a thick black line | |
| So you better speak up, better raise that voice | |
| Come on, scream loud all you girls and boys | |
| Let' s get wild, wild, wild, let' s rejoice | |
| Come on, come on | |
| I want to hear that fucking noise | |
| Oh the push and pull of everything | |
| Oh this nightmare of electricity | |
| We are the living dead, yeah the living dead | |
| That' s the way it is | |
| That' s the way it' s always been | |
| Oh that snake slithered past my house today | |
| Oh I heard he caught you on a dark highway | |
| No the clouds didn' t part they just grew into a storm | |
| I can still hear the sound of the rolling thunder thunder! | |
| God, put down your gun, can' t you see we' re dead? | |
| God, put down your hand, we' re not listening | |
| God, put down your gun, can' t you see we' re dead? | |
| I said, god, put down your hand, we' re not listening | |
| Oh, we never were | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel |
| zuò cí : Tilly And The Wall | |
| Oh the high school kids they' re all fucked up | |
| Touching each other, oh my god | |
| Yeah and forty ounces was never enough | |
| We want to pass out in your yard | |
| We want to pass out | |
| Dressing in drag your best friend' s clothes | |
| While boys kissed boys in hotel rooms | |
| Oh and just when we thought we were no longer lost | |
| They kicked us out into the dirty streets of Atlanta | |
| So it' s Friday night down on North Avenue | |
| Where gas station parking lot prostitutes | |
| Tried to fix their hair in our rearview mirrors | |
| You know we' re just trying to get to the club and shake our asses | |
| A caravan of kids, some big old mess | |
| On an old wooden dock, oh we' re bored to death | |
| We' ve got a bottle of wine, a fresh pack of smokes | |
| We' re going to end up screaming about some midnight garage sale | |
| So god, put down your gun, can' t you see we' re dead? | |
| God, put down your hand, we' re not listening | |
| Oh, the microphone cut off so we' re screaming at the top of our lungs | |
| You are born so fresh, a golden prize | |
| Until you scrape that knee and quickly realize | |
| That you' re lost in a fog on your way to death | |
| Oh a thick black line, a thick black line | |
| So you better speak up, better raise that voice | |
| Come on, scream loud all you girls and boys | |
| Let' s get wild, wild, wild, let' s rejoice | |
| Come on, come on | |
| I want to hear that fucking noise | |
| Oh the push and pull of everything | |
| Oh this nightmare of electricity | |
| We are the living dead, yeah the living dead | |
| That' s the way it is | |
| That' s the way it' s always been | |
| Oh that snake slithered past my house today | |
| Oh I heard he caught you on a dark highway | |
| No the clouds didn' t part they just grew into a storm | |
| I can still hear the sound of the rolling thunder thunder! | |
| God, put down your gun, can' t you see we' re dead? | |
| God, put down your hand, we' re not listening | |
| God, put down your gun, can' t you see we' re dead? | |
| I said, god, put down your hand, we' re not listening | |
| Oh, we never were | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| I want to fuck it up | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel so alive | |
| And I feel |
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