The Moon Red Handed 歌词
| 歌曲 | The Moon Red Handed |
| 歌手 | The Good Life |
| 专辑 | Novena on a Nocturn |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Good Life | |
| tell me, dear, | |
| is there anything you'd like to hear? | |
| one last song before we disappear? | |
| some broken hearted ballad | |
| built for two. | |
| by the way, it seems my notebooks have been misplaced | |
| those scribbled poetries of yesterday | |
| they've no more effect on me, | |
| those dead feelings | |
| the songs we don't sing are the hardest to hear. | |
| words left unsaid, words we wish we'd forget. | |
| the guilt slips from our lips, | |
| confessions hidden behind eyelids. | |
| would you look me in the eye and tell me | |
| does the moon weep at dawn? | |
| his brilliance exposed | |
| by a fierce and burning sun. | |
| the songs we don't sing we don't want to hear. | |
| words left unsaid well, they're only words | |
| we lick the guilt form our lips, | |
| we make confessions from fertile hips | |
| and never look them in the eye. |
| zuo qu : Good Life | |
| tell me, dear, | |
| is there anything you' d like to hear? | |
| one last song before we disappear? | |
| some broken hearted ballad | |
| built for two. | |
| by the way, it seems my notebooks have been misplaced | |
| those scribbled poetries of yesterday | |
| they' ve no more effect on me, | |
| those dead feelings | |
| the songs we don' t sing are the hardest to hear. | |
| words left unsaid, words we wish we' d forget. | |
| the guilt slips from our lips, | |
| confessions hidden behind eyelids. | |
| would you look me in the eye and tell me | |
| does the moon weep at dawn? | |
| his brilliance exposed | |
| by a fierce and burning sun. | |
| the songs we don' t sing we don' t want to hear. | |
| words left unsaid well, they' re only words | |
| we lick the guilt form our lips, | |
| we make confessions from fertile hips | |
| and never look them in the eye. |
| zuò qǔ : Good Life | |
| tell me, dear, | |
| is there anything you' d like to hear? | |
| one last song before we disappear? | |
| some broken hearted ballad | |
| built for two. | |
| by the way, it seems my notebooks have been misplaced | |
| those scribbled poetries of yesterday | |
| they' ve no more effect on me, | |
| those dead feelings | |
| the songs we don' t sing are the hardest to hear. | |
| words left unsaid, words we wish we' d forget. | |
| the guilt slips from our lips, | |
| confessions hidden behind eyelids. | |
| would you look me in the eye and tell me | |
| does the moon weep at dawn? | |
| his brilliance exposed | |
| by a fierce and burning sun. | |
| the songs we don' t sing we don' t want to hear. | |
| words left unsaid well, they' re only words | |
| we lick the guilt form our lips, | |
| we make confessions from fertile hips | |
| and never look them in the eye. |
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