歌曲 | Oxus Pagoda |
歌手 | Hallelujah the Hills |
专辑 | Colonial Drones |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Walsh | |
It's true, the signal implodes | |
it goes where she goes | |
the cogs all march along in perfect single file | |
from beyond the grave where dead men relay | |
synchronistic poems that call for civil unrest | |
and here are the plans that you tied into knots | |
and here are the props that were everything but | |
so dancing with statues you sweetened the plot | |
and this I bring to you | |
and this I bring through you | |
for days we replayed the play | |
on stage after stage | |
but never could decide on an intended meaning | |
the town was corrupt, demanded of us | |
a semi private showing for the master's daughter | |
and here is the scene where I kill every god | |
and bury them nameless in cemetery plots | |
deliver the news to the public at large | |
and this I bring to you | |
and this I bring through you | |
"i'm gonna start again" | |
"start again?" | |
we walked up to wind chime mountain | |
to bury our old postcards | |
she said: "I need to tell you | |
about the 345 people you meet in purgatory | |
and how I got sick of all these guardian angels | |
with more problems than me" | |
years before we lived in the hotel we both worked within | |
where she attempted to write the great Canadian review | |
of the great American novel | |
a request from the 1st edition's introduction: | |
the playwright wishes that you harangue the actors | |
with pyramid scheme pitches during the encore. | |
also, a real gun will be randomly fired into the audience | |
during intermission. | |
please enjoy. | |
the curtain came down and the crowd rushed the stage | |
we fled towards the airport through gunsmoke and haze | |
our passports revoked and the embassy razed | |
and this they brought to me | |
and this they brought through me |
zuo qu : Walsh | |
It' s true, the signal implodes | |
it goes where she goes | |
the cogs all march along in perfect single file | |
from beyond the grave where dead men relay | |
synchronistic poems that call for civil unrest | |
and here are the plans that you tied into knots | |
and here are the props that were everything but | |
so dancing with statues you sweetened the plot | |
and this I bring to you | |
and this I bring through you | |
for days we replayed the play | |
on stage after stage | |
but never could decide on an intended meaning | |
the town was corrupt, demanded of us | |
a semi private showing for the master' s daughter | |
and here is the scene where I kill every god | |
and bury them nameless in cemetery plots | |
deliver the news to the public at large | |
and this I bring to you | |
and this I bring through you | |
" i' m gonna start again" | |
" start again?" | |
we walked up to wind chime mountain | |
to bury our old postcards | |
she said: " I need to tell you | |
about the 345 people you meet in purgatory | |
and how I got sick of all these guardian angels | |
with more problems than me" | |
years before we lived in the hotel we both worked within | |
where she attempted to write the great Canadian review | |
of the great American novel | |
a request from the 1st edition' s introduction: | |
the playwright wishes that you harangue the actors | |
with pyramid scheme pitches during the encore. | |
also, a real gun will be randomly fired into the audience | |
during intermission. | |
please enjoy. | |
the curtain came down and the crowd rushed the stage | |
we fled towards the airport through gunsmoke and haze | |
our passports revoked and the embassy razed | |
and this they brought to me | |
and this they brought through me |
zuò qǔ : Walsh | |
It' s true, the signal implodes | |
it goes where she goes | |
the cogs all march along in perfect single file | |
from beyond the grave where dead men relay | |
synchronistic poems that call for civil unrest | |
and here are the plans that you tied into knots | |
and here are the props that were everything but | |
so dancing with statues you sweetened the plot | |
and this I bring to you | |
and this I bring through you | |
for days we replayed the play | |
on stage after stage | |
but never could decide on an intended meaning | |
the town was corrupt, demanded of us | |
a semi private showing for the master' s daughter | |
and here is the scene where I kill every god | |
and bury them nameless in cemetery plots | |
deliver the news to the public at large | |
and this I bring to you | |
and this I bring through you | |
" i' m gonna start again" | |
" start again?" | |
we walked up to wind chime mountain | |
to bury our old postcards | |
she said: " I need to tell you | |
about the 345 people you meet in purgatory | |
and how I got sick of all these guardian angels | |
with more problems than me" | |
years before we lived in the hotel we both worked within | |
where she attempted to write the great Canadian review | |
of the great American novel | |
a request from the 1st edition' s introduction: | |
the playwright wishes that you harangue the actors | |
with pyramid scheme pitches during the encore. | |
also, a real gun will be randomly fired into the audience | |
during intermission. | |
please enjoy. | |
the curtain came down and the crowd rushed the stage | |
we fled towards the airport through gunsmoke and haze | |
our passports revoked and the embassy razed | |
and this they brought to me | |
and this they brought through me |