Glycaemic Index Blues 歌词
| 歌曲 | Glycaemic Index Blues |
| 歌手 | Max Tundra |
| 专辑 | Parallax Error Beheads You |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Jacobs | |
| As the village gives me up for dead | |
| I hide in a neighbour's bed | |
| Then under the door glides a river of glossy red | |
| A fruit in a fractured skin | |
| A slit in the peel and the juices come tumbling through | |
| The boat was too crowded so I had a word with the crew | |
| I can't get my head around spread betting | |
| I'd rather use the Cher setting | |
| The world's financial markets hold no interest for me | |
| That man from the string quartet | |
| Is wearing the thing that he won in a drunken bet | |
| Your friend's trying to call you | |
| It looks like he might be upset | |
| Intricate patterns of light dictate the tone | |
| Downed by a wink from a sylph I've never known | |
| I'm so alone | |
| The cutting-room men from the studio got their wish | |
| The clunk of a cauldron on flagstone, the slippery dish | |
| My seventy-eights in the move were all smashed apart | |
| The legs in the megaphone pulse to the beat of my heart |
| zuo qu : Jacobs | |
| As the village gives me up for dead | |
| I hide in a neighbour' s bed | |
| Then under the door glides a river of glossy red | |
| A fruit in a fractured skin | |
| A slit in the peel and the juices come tumbling through | |
| The boat was too crowded so I had a word with the crew | |
| I can' t get my head around spread betting | |
| I' d rather use the Cher setting | |
| The world' s financial markets hold no interest for me | |
| That man from the string quartet | |
| Is wearing the thing that he won in a drunken bet | |
| Your friend' s trying to call you | |
| It looks like he might be upset | |
| Intricate patterns of light dictate the tone | |
| Downed by a wink from a sylph I' ve never known | |
| I' m so alone | |
| The cuttingroom men from the studio got their wish | |
| The clunk of a cauldron on flagstone, the slippery dish | |
| My seventyeights in the move were all smashed apart | |
| The legs in the megaphone pulse to the beat of my heart |
| zuò qǔ : Jacobs | |
| As the village gives me up for dead | |
| I hide in a neighbour' s bed | |
| Then under the door glides a river of glossy red | |
| A fruit in a fractured skin | |
| A slit in the peel and the juices come tumbling through | |
| The boat was too crowded so I had a word with the crew | |
| I can' t get my head around spread betting | |
| I' d rather use the Cher setting | |
| The world' s financial markets hold no interest for me | |
| That man from the string quartet | |
| Is wearing the thing that he won in a drunken bet | |
| Your friend' s trying to call you | |
| It looks like he might be upset | |
| Intricate patterns of light dictate the tone | |
| Downed by a wink from a sylph I' ve never known | |
| I' m so alone | |
| The cuttingroom men from the studio got their wish | |
| The clunk of a cauldron on flagstone, the slippery dish | |
| My seventyeights in the move were all smashed apart | |
| The legs in the megaphone pulse to the beat of my heart |
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