I Went Over The Edge Of The World 歌词
| 歌曲 | I Went Over The Edge Of The World |
| 歌手 | Kevin Max |
| 专辑 | Stereotype Be |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Max | |
| Oh the hymns of angels | |
| Suffer over the stench of the 21st century | |
| Nothing is black or white | |
| Or devoid of industry | |
| The face of monotony | |
| The litany of popular culture | |
| I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for a change | |
| A break from the deranged world of | |
| Plotting out the death of art | |
| And I went over the edge of the world | |
| And felt the sting of all it's words | |
| I sang the song of elves and birds | |
| I saw you in my rear view shades | |
| And drank from pools of night time café's | |
| I stopped over just to finish up | |
| I turned the knobs and called your bluff | |
| I went over the edge of the world | |
| I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for change | |
| A break from the deranged world of | |
| Plotting out the death of art |
| zuo qu : Max | |
| Oh the hymns of angels | |
| Suffer over the stench of the 21st century | |
| Nothing is black or white | |
| Or devoid of industry | |
| The face of monotony | |
| The litany of popular culture | |
| I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for a change | |
| A break from the deranged world of | |
| Plotting out the death of art | |
| And I went over the edge of the world | |
| And felt the sting of all it' s words | |
| I sang the song of elves and birds | |
| I saw you in my rear view shades | |
| And drank from pools of night time cafe' s | |
| I stopped over just to finish up | |
| I turned the knobs and called your bluff | |
| I went over the edge of the world | |
| I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for change | |
| A break from the deranged world of | |
| Plotting out the death of art |
| zuò qǔ : Max | |
| Oh the hymns of angels | |
| Suffer over the stench of the 21st century | |
| Nothing is black or white | |
| Or devoid of industry | |
| The face of monotony | |
| The litany of popular culture | |
| I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for a change | |
| A break from the deranged world of | |
| Plotting out the death of art | |
| And I went over the edge of the world | |
| And felt the sting of all it' s words | |
| I sang the song of elves and birds | |
| I saw you in my rear view shades | |
| And drank from pools of night time café' s | |
| I stopped over just to finish up | |
| I turned the knobs and called your bluff | |
| I went over the edge of the world | |
| I face the microphone and fumble in my pockets for change | |
| A break from the deranged world of | |
| Plotting out the death of art |
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