16 17 sylvan manor - dealer 歌词

歌曲	16 17 sylvan manor - dealer
歌手	Frontier Ruckus
专辑	Eternity Of Dimming
下载	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Matthew Christopher Milia
	作曲 : Matthew Christopher Milia
	I'll be swimming in the ditches
	With the brimming snowmelt
	With unexplainable fishes
	And the plopped-down mallards belt out
	For vouchers of pizza coupons
	Surrounding the mailbox
	And drowned in the lawns
	There with me
	Yes, some spiny heart grieves
	For our occasional escape
	In its artichoke leaves
	That our bottom teeth familially scrape
	Then discard on creased paper plates
	As a knife extricates what's released
	And the heat levitates
	Does your dad fall asleep
	With the remote in his hand?
	Does a digital beep
	Promote gentle reprimand
	To share all your love
	Like the threadbare cloth of
	Some T-shirt your mom wears
	From a tournament of soccer you played
	In 1998?
	He bakes blank birthday cakes
	In the grocery store flicker
	And the hard plastic cases
	He seals with a sticker
	With a bar code and what's owed
	And in a gossiping snicker
	The birthday-boy moms
	With expired pom-poms gravitate
	To personalize one
	For her first and only prized son
	I cannot sleep
	With this language snowing so deeply
	In my head
	Dim soccer goals
	And non-marking gym soles
	With which I walk through instead
	The archaic layout of the buildings that play out
	My past as I'm lying in my bed
	They will not stay out and so the only way out
	Is to worship these worlds with my face red
	Blushing beauteously
	Rushing circuitously
	Shaking with every endorphin
	Constantly mesmerized
	By all I've memorized
	Leaving no place as an orphan
	I perfect my conveyance by directing a seance
	From an eighth grade computer lab station in the basement
	Where the latchkey kids feel like a non-factor
	And the black-ice skids call the strip-mall
	Chiropractor
	To the sweetly faulty parents
	On their white-stained salty errands
	Nonetheless, I digress
	I walk through
	Each janitor's closet
	And lavatory faucet
	And desk configuration
	And signature validation
	On a permission slip nervously forged
	Clarifying tenuous eras of my penmanship's formation
	The holy gradation
	For the coaches that wronged me
	And my sense of belonging
	There's a song I can taste when the braces are tightened
	And the forceps clamp and the summer is heightened
	And my mouth is the amplifier that voices its name
	Well, no two-bit piece of shit interloper
	Is gonna touch my world or molest my hope or
	My kingdom that lingers in each drawer I open
	When I open it up I'll be groping at what is for damn sure
	In the dimming of Sylvan Manor

	zuo ci : Matthew Christopher Milia
	zuo qu : Matthew Christopher Milia
	I' ll be swimming in the ditches
	With the brimming snowmelt
	With unexplainable fishes
	And the ploppeddown mallards belt out
	For vouchers of pizza coupons
	Surrounding the mailbox
	And drowned in the lawns
	There with me
	Yes, some spiny heart grieves
	For our occasional escape
	In its artichoke leaves
	That our bottom teeth familially scrape
	Then discard on creased paper plates
	As a knife extricates what' s released
	And the heat levitates
	Does your dad fall asleep
	With the remote in his hand?
	Does a digital beep
	Promote gentle reprimand
	To share all your love
	Like the threadbare cloth of
	Some Tshirt your mom wears
	From a tournament of soccer you played
	In 1998?
	He bakes blank birthday cakes
	In the grocery store flicker
	And the hard plastic cases
	He seals with a sticker
	With a bar code and what' s owed
	And in a gossiping snicker
	The birthdayboy moms
	With expired pompoms gravitate
	To personalize one
	For her first and only prized son
	I cannot sleep
	With this language snowing so deeply
	In my head
	Dim soccer goals
	And nonmarking gym soles
	With which I walk through instead
	The archaic layout of the buildings that play out
	My past as I' m lying in my bed
	They will not stay out and so the only way out
	Is to worship these worlds with my face red
	Blushing beauteously
	Rushing circuitously
	Shaking with every endorphin
	Constantly mesmerized
	By all I' ve memorized
	Leaving no place as an orphan
	I perfect my conveyance by directing a seance
	From an eighth grade computer lab station in the basement
	Where the latchkey kids feel like a nonfactor
	And the blackice skids call the stripmall
	Chiropractor
	To the sweetly faulty parents
	On their whitestained salty errands
	Nonetheless, I digress
	I walk through
	Each janitor' s closet
	And lavatory faucet
	And desk configuration
	And signature validation
	On a permission slip nervously forged
	Clarifying tenuous eras of my penmanship' s formation
	The holy gradation
	For the coaches that wronged me
	And my sense of belonging
	There' s a song I can taste when the braces are tightened
	And the forceps clamp and the summer is heightened
	And my mouth is the amplifier that voices its name
	Well, no twobit piece of shit interloper
	Is gonna touch my world or molest my hope or
	My kingdom that lingers in each drawer I open
	When I open it up I' ll be groping at what is for damn sure
	In the dimming of Sylvan Manor

	zuò cí : Matthew Christopher Milia
	zuò qǔ : Matthew Christopher Milia
	I' ll be swimming in the ditches
	With the brimming snowmelt
	With unexplainable fishes
	And the ploppeddown mallards belt out
	For vouchers of pizza coupons
	Surrounding the mailbox
	And drowned in the lawns
	There with me
	Yes, some spiny heart grieves
	For our occasional escape
	In its artichoke leaves
	That our bottom teeth familially scrape
	Then discard on creased paper plates
	As a knife extricates what' s released
	And the heat levitates
	Does your dad fall asleep
	With the remote in his hand?
	Does a digital beep
	Promote gentle reprimand
	To share all your love
	Like the threadbare cloth of
	Some Tshirt your mom wears
	From a tournament of soccer you played
	In 1998?
	He bakes blank birthday cakes
	In the grocery store flicker
	And the hard plastic cases
	He seals with a sticker
	With a bar code and what' s owed
	And in a gossiping snicker
	The birthdayboy moms
	With expired pompoms gravitate
	To personalize one
	For her first and only prized son
	I cannot sleep
	With this language snowing so deeply
	In my head
	Dim soccer goals
	And nonmarking gym soles
	With which I walk through instead
	The archaic layout of the buildings that play out
	My past as I' m lying in my bed
	They will not stay out and so the only way out
	Is to worship these worlds with my face red
	Blushing beauteously
	Rushing circuitously
	Shaking with every endorphin
	Constantly mesmerized
	By all I' ve memorized
	Leaving no place as an orphan
	I perfect my conveyance by directing a seance
	From an eighth grade computer lab station in the basement
	Where the latchkey kids feel like a nonfactor
	And the blackice skids call the stripmall
	Chiropractor
	To the sweetly faulty parents
	On their whitestained salty errands
	Nonetheless, I digress
	I walk through
	Each janitor' s closet
	And lavatory faucet
	And desk configuration
	And signature validation
	On a permission slip nervously forged
	Clarifying tenuous eras of my penmanship' s formation
	The holy gradation
	For the coaches that wronged me
	And my sense of belonging
	There' s a song I can taste when the braces are tightened
	And the forceps clamp and the summer is heightened
	And my mouth is the amplifier that voices its name
	Well, no twobit piece of shit interloper
	Is gonna touch my world or molest my hope or
	My kingdom that lingers in each drawer I open
	When I open it up I' ll be groping at what is for damn sure
	In the dimming of Sylvan Manor

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