Your Little Suburbia Is In Ruins 歌词
| 歌曲 | Your Little Suburbia Is In Ruins |
| 歌手 | August Burns Red |
| 专辑 | Home |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : August Burns Red | |
| Open those eyes. | |
| Wake from peace. | |
| Orders are some favorite color. | |
| Same old, same old is their battle cry. | |
| Why don't we keep searching for a new flavor? | |
| Our hearts have become a routine. | |
| Worthy kings have broken backs for nothing. | |
| Unless we cherish all with pride, | |
| the lines on our face will turn into canyons of sorrow instead of hope. | |
| They didn't die from cold without but they died from cold within. | |
| And I just can't stop denying that our brothers are in miserable pain. | |
| Stop short. | |
| Lend a hand and break the chains of regularity that you lean so closely upon. | |
| Your little suburbia is in ruins. | |
| Tear down all the assumptions you hold, for I guarantee they are false. | |
| Sometimes the best feeling may be the one that kills. |
| zuo qu : August Burns Red | |
| Open those eyes. | |
| Wake from peace. | |
| Orders are some favorite color. | |
| Same old, same old is their battle cry. | |
| Why don' t we keep searching for a new flavor? | |
| Our hearts have become a routine. | |
| Worthy kings have broken backs for nothing. | |
| Unless we cherish all with pride, | |
| the lines on our face will turn into canyons of sorrow instead of hope. | |
| They didn' t die from cold without but they died from cold within. | |
| And I just can' t stop denying that our brothers are in miserable pain. | |
| Stop short. | |
| Lend a hand and break the chains of regularity that you lean so closely upon. | |
| Your little suburbia is in ruins. | |
| Tear down all the assumptions you hold, for I guarantee they are false. | |
| Sometimes the best feeling may be the one that kills. |
| zuò qǔ : August Burns Red | |
| Open those eyes. | |
| Wake from peace. | |
| Orders are some favorite color. | |
| Same old, same old is their battle cry. | |
| Why don' t we keep searching for a new flavor? | |
| Our hearts have become a routine. | |
| Worthy kings have broken backs for nothing. | |
| Unless we cherish all with pride, | |
| the lines on our face will turn into canyons of sorrow instead of hope. | |
| They didn' t die from cold without but they died from cold within. | |
| And I just can' t stop denying that our brothers are in miserable pain. | |
| Stop short. | |
| Lend a hand and break the chains of regularity that you lean so closely upon. | |
| Your little suburbia is in ruins. | |
| Tear down all the assumptions you hold, for I guarantee they are false. | |
| Sometimes the best feeling may be the one that kills. |
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