歌曲 | Parade Of The Dead |
歌手 | Hilltop Hoods |
专辑 | State Of The Art |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
VERSE 1: PRESSURE | |
Quarter to midnight, a sea of slaughter I’m in flight, | |
Red running water getting caught in the rip tide, | |
Cars out of order man I thought I could hitch hike, | |
Sporting a chainsaw for I’m avoiding a fist fight, | |
The evacuation went ahead, | |
But bullet fire caressed my head I was left for dead, | |
Awoke in hell and knowing well the feds had fled, | |
Before the sun set in red, | |
The witching hour that approaches has a host of, | |
Seven plagues, packs of locusts, rats and roaches, | |
Fat and bloated corpses lacking focus, | |
Trapped in the throws of attacking that that’s closest, | |
Legs aching from the pace that I’m running at, | |
Death chasing aint safe till the sun is back, | |
Escaping the cityscape like a lumberjack, | |
My own wakes the only way that I’m coming back, | |
The outer limits, found a house in thickets, | |
Heard a shout as a shot rang out to witness, | |
The foulest dead disemboweled and gizzards, | |
Their rival in his final hour or minutes, | |
Numb with fear, holding gun to ear, | |
He said ‘Run, it’s clear till the sun appears, | |
Tell my son his dear loving mum is near, | |
See you in hell man I’m done with here’ | |
CHORUS | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
They poured gasoline on top of a lake,And then they set it on fire so nobody escaped, | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
Quarantined and forgotten for days, | |
These are the stories of those who have gotten away | |
VERSE 2: SUFFA | |
I thought I might, | |
Drown in sweat when I heard the sound FX, | |
Of fingernails running down my fence, | |
Was it rioters, rats or malcontents? | |
I pulled my blinds back a crack like Malcolm X, | |
The scene was sirens, violence, car alarms, | |
My neighbour waving from his yard with half an arm, | |
Vietnam in the suburbs, the walking dead, | |
Burning down the house like Talking Heads, | |
A city on fire not a city of god, | |
A city that hides from a hideous mob, | |
The zombie flicks, man I’ve seen ‘em a lot, | |
Enough to know when it’s time to get the fuck out of dodge, | |
Only packed the necessities, | |
Toothbrush, porno, souped-up weaponry, | |
And just for the fun of it, I stole my neighbours Hummer, | |
Put spikes out the side and tied a chainsaw to the front of it, | |
I cut up heads and shoulders, knees and toes, | |
Knees and toes, knees and toes, | |
I cut up heads and shoulders, knees and toes, | |
Knees and toes, knees and toes | |
CHORUS | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
They poured gasoline on top of a lake, | |
And then they set it on fire so nobody escaped, | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
Quarantined and forgotten for days, | |
These are the stories of those who have gotten away |
VERSE 1: PRESSURE | |
Quarter to midnight, a sea of slaughter I' m in flight, | |
Red running water getting caught in the rip tide, | |
Cars out of order man I thought I could hitch hike, | |
Sporting a chainsaw for I' m avoiding a fist fight, | |
The evacuation went ahead, | |
But bullet fire caressed my head I was left for dead, | |
Awoke in hell and knowing well the feds had fled, | |
Before the sun set in red, | |
The witching hour that approaches has a host of, | |
Seven plagues, packs of locusts, rats and roaches, | |
Fat and bloated corpses lacking focus, | |
Trapped in the throws of attacking that that' s closest, | |
Legs aching from the pace that I' m running at, | |
Death chasing aint safe till the sun is back, | |
Escaping the cityscape like a lumberjack, | |
My own wakes the only way that I' m coming back, | |
The outer limits, found a house in thickets, | |
Heard a shout as a shot rang out to witness, | |
The foulest dead disemboweled and gizzards, | |
Their rival in his final hour or minutes, | |
Numb with fear, holding gun to ear, | |
He said ' Run, it' s clear till the sun appears, | |
Tell my son his dear loving mum is near, | |
See you in hell man I' m done with here' | |
CHORUS | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
They poured gasoline on top of a lake, And then they set it on fire so nobody escaped, | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
Quarantined and forgotten for days, | |
These are the stories of those who have gotten away | |
VERSE 2: SUFFA | |
I thought I might, | |
Drown in sweat when I heard the sound FX, | |
Of fingernails running down my fence, | |
Was it rioters, rats or malcontents? | |
I pulled my blinds back a crack like Malcolm X, | |
The scene was sirens, violence, car alarms, | |
My neighbour waving from his yard with half an arm, | |
Vietnam in the suburbs, the walking dead, | |
Burning down the house like Talking Heads, | |
A city on fire not a city of god, | |
A city that hides from a hideous mob, | |
The zombie flicks, man I' ve seen ' em a lot, | |
Enough to know when it' s time to get the fuck out of dodge, | |
Only packed the necessities, | |
Toothbrush, porno, soupedup weaponry, | |
And just for the fun of it, I stole my neighbours Hummer, | |
Put spikes out the side and tied a chainsaw to the front of it, | |
I cut up heads and shoulders, knees and toes, | |
Knees and toes, knees and toes, | |
I cut up heads and shoulders, knees and toes, | |
Knees and toes, knees and toes | |
CHORUS | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
They poured gasoline on top of a lake, | |
And then they set it on fire so nobody escaped, | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
Quarantined and forgotten for days, | |
These are the stories of those who have gotten away |
VERSE 1: PRESSURE | |
Quarter to midnight, a sea of slaughter I' m in flight, | |
Red running water getting caught in the rip tide, | |
Cars out of order man I thought I could hitch hike, | |
Sporting a chainsaw for I' m avoiding a fist fight, | |
The evacuation went ahead, | |
But bullet fire caressed my head I was left for dead, | |
Awoke in hell and knowing well the feds had fled, | |
Before the sun set in red, | |
The witching hour that approaches has a host of, | |
Seven plagues, packs of locusts, rats and roaches, | |
Fat and bloated corpses lacking focus, | |
Trapped in the throws of attacking that that' s closest, | |
Legs aching from the pace that I' m running at, | |
Death chasing aint safe till the sun is back, | |
Escaping the cityscape like a lumberjack, | |
My own wakes the only way that I' m coming back, | |
The outer limits, found a house in thickets, | |
Heard a shout as a shot rang out to witness, | |
The foulest dead disemboweled and gizzards, | |
Their rival in his final hour or minutes, | |
Numb with fear, holding gun to ear, | |
He said ' Run, it' s clear till the sun appears, | |
Tell my son his dear loving mum is near, | |
See you in hell man I' m done with here' | |
CHORUS | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
They poured gasoline on top of a lake, And then they set it on fire so nobody escaped, | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
Quarantined and forgotten for days, | |
These are the stories of those who have gotten away | |
VERSE 2: SUFFA | |
I thought I might, | |
Drown in sweat when I heard the sound FX, | |
Of fingernails running down my fence, | |
Was it rioters, rats or malcontents? | |
I pulled my blinds back a crack like Malcolm X, | |
The scene was sirens, violence, car alarms, | |
My neighbour waving from his yard with half an arm, | |
Vietnam in the suburbs, the walking dead, | |
Burning down the house like Talking Heads, | |
A city on fire not a city of god, | |
A city that hides from a hideous mob, | |
The zombie flicks, man I' ve seen ' em a lot, | |
Enough to know when it' s time to get the fuck out of dodge, | |
Only packed the necessities, | |
Toothbrush, porno, soupedup weaponry, | |
And just for the fun of it, I stole my neighbours Hummer, | |
Put spikes out the side and tied a chainsaw to the front of it, | |
I cut up heads and shoulders, knees and toes, | |
Knees and toes, knees and toes, | |
I cut up heads and shoulders, knees and toes, | |
Knees and toes, knees and toes | |
CHORUS | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
They poured gasoline on top of a lake, | |
And then they set it on fire so nobody escaped, | |
They built my city on top of a grave, | |
Now the dead roam the street like a rotting parade, | |
Quarantined and forgotten for days, | |
These are the stories of those who have gotten away |