歌曲 | From 24C |
歌手 | The Matches |
专辑 | A Band In Hope |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
Digits dial, digits dial...tone, monotone | |
Has she been feigning sleeping? | |
Framing sheep and all alone? | |
Downslide on the sidewalk, | |
I'm a distant ring | |
Out of body, out of body, | |
Pick me up, oh answer me | |
I just hurried over | |
Worried sick you might be sick | |
Gates are courting airplanes, | |
and clocks divorcing ticks | |
Before I left, thought I'd see you | |
At the show, you didn't show | |
Didn't message, didn't call | |
You didn't know, oh didn't you know? | |
I'm a liar too | |
Uh huh, that's why I think I understand you | |
Someone from your building holds for me a door | |
I'm in your lobby, your elevator | |
I'm on your floor, the second floor | |
I can hear you now | |
With my ear pressed to the paint | |
You're playing that cassette tape | |
That you took from me to take to Iowa | |
And that was near three years ago | |
Now I'm back up in that moment | |
Playing that yardsale Casio | |
I sang to you from a red room | |
(Together we'll grey, grey, grey) | |
Does he sing to you as well? | |
Much better, most would say | |
I hear him laughing | |
But I prefer this to the silence | |
When your lips are sealed against his | |
Or he fills your thighs with kisses | |
Or just for instance | |
He's clawing your fat, | |
Pushing your breaths into the mattress | |
You'll love a good many men, mmhmm | |
And loving me ain't gonna stop all of them | |
Like Adam we are flawed | |
In the image of our gods | |
Of our fathers, who never bothered | |
To consider they were not the only ones | |
(Faith, ohhh...) | |
Faith oh faith, is a way to believe lies that we need | |
Then to be faithful is to be truthless | |
But that's more than I need to say | |
Oh just don't run off and get married | |
And I'll surely be okay | |
'Cause I love you | |
They'll never cure that muse | |
Gotta go now | |
Pack my suitcase | |
Glad that you're okay, | |
And I love you, happy birthday, | |
See you in sixteen days. |
zuo qu : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
Digits dial, digits dial... tone, monotone | |
Has she been feigning sleeping? | |
Framing sheep and all alone? | |
Downslide on the sidewalk, | |
I' m a distant ring | |
Out of body, out of body, | |
Pick me up, oh answer me | |
I just hurried over | |
Worried sick you might be sick | |
Gates are courting airplanes, | |
and clocks divorcing ticks | |
Before I left, thought I' d see you | |
At the show, you didn' t show | |
Didn' t message, didn' t call | |
You didn' t know, oh didn' t you know? | |
I' m a liar too | |
Uh huh, that' s why I think I understand you | |
Someone from your building holds for me a door | |
I' m in your lobby, your elevator | |
I' m on your floor, the second floor | |
I can hear you now | |
With my ear pressed to the paint | |
You' re playing that cassette tape | |
That you took from me to take to Iowa | |
And that was near three years ago | |
Now I' m back up in that moment | |
Playing that yardsale Casio | |
I sang to you from a red room | |
Together we' ll grey, grey, grey | |
Does he sing to you as well? | |
Much better, most would say | |
I hear him laughing | |
But I prefer this to the silence | |
When your lips are sealed against his | |
Or he fills your thighs with kisses | |
Or just for instance | |
He' s clawing your fat, | |
Pushing your breaths into the mattress | |
You' ll love a good many men, mmhmm | |
And loving me ain' t gonna stop all of them | |
Like Adam we are flawed | |
In the image of our gods | |
Of our fathers, who never bothered | |
To consider they were not the only ones | |
Faith, ohhh... | |
Faith oh faith, is a way to believe lies that we need | |
Then to be faithful is to be truthless | |
But that' s more than I need to say | |
Oh just don' t run off and get married | |
And I' ll surely be okay | |
' Cause I love you | |
They' ll never cure that muse | |
Gotta go now | |
Pack my suitcase | |
Glad that you' re okay, | |
And I love you, happy birthday, | |
See you in sixteen days. |
zuò qǔ : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
Digits dial, digits dial... tone, monotone | |
Has she been feigning sleeping? | |
Framing sheep and all alone? | |
Downslide on the sidewalk, | |
I' m a distant ring | |
Out of body, out of body, | |
Pick me up, oh answer me | |
I just hurried over | |
Worried sick you might be sick | |
Gates are courting airplanes, | |
and clocks divorcing ticks | |
Before I left, thought I' d see you | |
At the show, you didn' t show | |
Didn' t message, didn' t call | |
You didn' t know, oh didn' t you know? | |
I' m a liar too | |
Uh huh, that' s why I think I understand you | |
Someone from your building holds for me a door | |
I' m in your lobby, your elevator | |
I' m on your floor, the second floor | |
I can hear you now | |
With my ear pressed to the paint | |
You' re playing that cassette tape | |
That you took from me to take to Iowa | |
And that was near three years ago | |
Now I' m back up in that moment | |
Playing that yardsale Casio | |
I sang to you from a red room | |
Together we' ll grey, grey, grey | |
Does he sing to you as well? | |
Much better, most would say | |
I hear him laughing | |
But I prefer this to the silence | |
When your lips are sealed against his | |
Or he fills your thighs with kisses | |
Or just for instance | |
He' s clawing your fat, | |
Pushing your breaths into the mattress | |
You' ll love a good many men, mmhmm | |
And loving me ain' t gonna stop all of them | |
Like Adam we are flawed | |
In the image of our gods | |
Of our fathers, who never bothered | |
To consider they were not the only ones | |
Faith, ohhh... | |
Faith oh faith, is a way to believe lies that we need | |
Then to be faithful is to be truthless | |
But that' s more than I need to say | |
Oh just don' t run off and get married | |
And I' ll surely be okay | |
' Cause I love you | |
They' ll never cure that muse | |
Gotta go now | |
Pack my suitcase | |
Glad that you' re okay, | |
And I love you, happy birthday, | |
See you in sixteen days. |