Tourniquet 歌词
| 歌曲 | Tourniquet |
| 歌手 | Hem |
| 专辑 | Departure & Farewell |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| Brooklyn, I’m broken -- I’m breaking apart -- | |
| Greenpoint pins down my hand, Red Hook pierces my heart -- | |
| And my blood runs into the Gowanus Canal | |
| Where it sinks to the bottom | |
| And hurts like hell. | |
| The Prospectors still search for highs in the heights | |
| ‘Til their first bloody nose which they laugh off despite | |
| How it seems that whatever gets left in a bar | |
| Just becomes part of Brooklyn | |
| And here we are. | |
| Oh, here we are... | |
| Brooklyn, your war was just won by the South -- | |
| Some kid’s shooting off rounds from the roof of his mouth -- | |
| And these trains held in Chambers are ready to blow | |
| All the way back to Brooklyn | |
| And here we go. | |
| Oh, here we go... | |
| Oh Brooklyn, your bridges are bound up in light -- | |
| Every artery’s clogged as you pull the belt tight -- | |
| And this tourniquet turns even tighter until | |
| Traffic comes to a standstill. | |
| We come to a standstill. | |
| I come to a standstill. | |
| Oh, here we are... |
| Brooklyn, I' m broken I' m breaking apart | |
| Greenpoint pins down my hand, Red Hook pierces my heart | |
| And my blood runs into the Gowanus Canal | |
| Where it sinks to the bottom | |
| And hurts like hell. | |
| The Prospectors still search for highs in the heights | |
| ' Til their first bloody nose which they laugh off despite | |
| How it seems that whatever gets left in a bar | |
| Just becomes part of Brooklyn | |
| And here we are. | |
| Oh, here we are... | |
| Brooklyn, your war was just won by the South | |
| Some kid' s shooting off rounds from the roof of his mouth | |
| And these trains held in Chambers are ready to blow | |
| All the way back to Brooklyn | |
| And here we go. | |
| Oh, here we go... | |
| Oh Brooklyn, your bridges are bound up in light | |
| Every artery' s clogged as you pull the belt tight | |
| And this tourniquet turns even tighter until | |
| Traffic comes to a standstill. | |
| We come to a standstill. | |
| I come to a standstill. | |
| Oh, here we are... |
| Brooklyn, I' m broken I' m breaking apart | |
| Greenpoint pins down my hand, Red Hook pierces my heart | |
| And my blood runs into the Gowanus Canal | |
| Where it sinks to the bottom | |
| And hurts like hell. | |
| The Prospectors still search for highs in the heights | |
| ' Til their first bloody nose which they laugh off despite | |
| How it seems that whatever gets left in a bar | |
| Just becomes part of Brooklyn | |
| And here we are. | |
| Oh, here we are... | |
| Brooklyn, your war was just won by the South | |
| Some kid' s shooting off rounds from the roof of his mouth | |
| And these trains held in Chambers are ready to blow | |
| All the way back to Brooklyn | |
| And here we go. | |
| Oh, here we go... | |
| Oh Brooklyn, your bridges are bound up in light | |
| Every artery' s clogged as you pull the belt tight | |
| And this tourniquet turns even tighter until | |
| Traffic comes to a standstill. | |
| We come to a standstill. | |
| I come to a standstill. | |
| Oh, here we are... |
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