| 歌曲 | Red Headed Butterflies |
| 歌手 | Stephen Brodsky |
| 专辑 | Octave Museum |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Brodsky | |
| Calling out for wonders | |
| Everywhere to pour yourselves | |
| Into the flask we hold up high within our hands | |
| Please, go on, continue | |
| To amaze, distilling as we marvel | |
| How its pretty colors now expand | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won't lift off the ground | |
| Calling out to saviors | |
| Everywhere, to launch yourselves | |
| Into the skies far up above our boring homes | |
| Please, go on, continue | |
| To display a new belief so | |
| Our lonely inner drones fall to sleep | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won't lift off the ground | |
| Calling out for martyrs | |
| Everywhere, perhaps in all of us | |
| There's dreams which I am convinced are of dying | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won't touch your ground | |
| And reach for some miracle | |
| No matter how hysterical | |
| It maybe sounds | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won't touch the ground | |
| I foresee a day when all those we've southerned will fix everything | |
| And oh what a fatal rain of relief | |
| All this will bring | |
| All this will bring |
| zuo qu : Brodsky | |
| Calling out for wonders | |
| Everywhere to pour yourselves | |
| Into the flask we hold up high within our hands | |
| Please, go on, continue | |
| To amaze, distilling as we marvel | |
| How its pretty colors now expand | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t lift off the ground | |
| Calling out to saviors | |
| Everywhere, to launch yourselves | |
| Into the skies far up above our boring homes | |
| Please, go on, continue | |
| To display a new belief so | |
| Our lonely inner drones fall to sleep | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t lift off the ground | |
| Calling out for martyrs | |
| Everywhere, perhaps in all of us | |
| There' s dreams which I am convinced are of dying | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t touch your ground | |
| And reach for some miracle | |
| No matter how hysterical | |
| It maybe sounds | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t touch the ground | |
| I foresee a day when all those we' ve southerned will fix everything | |
| And oh what a fatal rain of relief | |
| All this will bring | |
| All this will bring |
| zuò qǔ : Brodsky | |
| Calling out for wonders | |
| Everywhere to pour yourselves | |
| Into the flask we hold up high within our hands | |
| Please, go on, continue | |
| To amaze, distilling as we marvel | |
| How its pretty colors now expand | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t lift off the ground | |
| Calling out to saviors | |
| Everywhere, to launch yourselves | |
| Into the skies far up above our boring homes | |
| Please, go on, continue | |
| To display a new belief so | |
| Our lonely inner drones fall to sleep | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t lift off the ground | |
| Calling out for martyrs | |
| Everywhere, perhaps in all of us | |
| There' s dreams which I am convinced are of dying | |
| They reach for some pinnacle | |
| Far beyond cynical | |
| Exploding in sound | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t touch your ground | |
| And reach for some miracle | |
| No matter how hysterical | |
| It maybe sounds | |
| But if you feel otherwise | |
| Red headed butterflies won' t touch the ground | |
| I foresee a day when all those we' ve southerned will fix everything | |
| And oh what a fatal rain of relief | |
| All this will bring | |
| All this will bring |