歌曲 | Invalid Litter Dept. |
歌手 | At the Drive-In |
专辑 | Relationship of Command |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : At The Drive In | |
Intravenously polite, it was the walkie-talkies | |
That had knocked the pins down | |
As their shoes gripped the dirt floor | |
In the silhouette of dying. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes...) | |
Yeah, they had plans for him | |
But they had spun the last of the pimps | |
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips | |
While the guillotine just laughed again. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes...) | |
And the paramedics fell into the wound | |
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant, | |
An anaesthetic penance beneath | |
The hail of contraband. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes.) | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
They had defected and been excommunicated | |
And all the pulses were subverted, | |
And they made sure the obituaries | |
Showed pictures of smoke stacks. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes...) | |
A vivid dissection that mocked | |
The strut of vivisection | |
A semi-automatic colony | |
And a silencing that still walks the streets. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes...) | |
In the company of wolves | |
Was a stretcher made of | |
Cobblestone curfews. | |
And the federales performed | |
Their custodial customs quite well. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes.) | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Intravenously polite, it was the walkie-talkies | |
That had knocked the pins down | |
As their shoes lay dangling on the dirt floor | |
In the silhouette of dying. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes...) | |
Well, yeah, they had plans for him | |
But they had spun the last of the pimps | |
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips | |
While the guillotine just laughed again. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes...) | |
And the paramedics had fallen into the wound | |
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant, | |
An anaesthetic penance beneath | |
The hail of contraband. (Dancing on the corpse's ashes.) | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way... | |
Dancin' on the corpse's ashes... | |
Dancin' on the corpse's ashes... | |
Callous heels, | |
Numbed in travel | |
Endless maps made | |
By their scalpels. | |
Scalpels. | |
Callous heels, | |
Numbed in travel | |
Endless maps made | |
By their scalpels. | |
Scalpels... |
zuo ci : At The Drive In | |
Intravenously polite, it was the walkietalkies | |
That had knocked the pins down | |
As their shoes gripped the dirt floor | |
In the silhouette of dying. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Yeah, they had plans for him | |
But they had spun the last of the pimps | |
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips | |
While the guillotine just laughed again. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
And the paramedics fell into the wound | |
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant, | |
An anaesthetic penance beneath | |
The hail of contraband. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
They had defected and been excommunicated | |
And all the pulses were subverted, | |
And they made sure the obituaries | |
Showed pictures of smoke stacks. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
A vivid dissection that mocked | |
The strut of vivisection | |
A semiautomatic colony | |
And a silencing that still walks the streets. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
In the company of wolves | |
Was a stretcher made of | |
Cobblestone curfews. | |
And the federales performed | |
Their custodial customs quite well. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Intravenously polite, it was the walkietalkies | |
That had knocked the pins down | |
As their shoes lay dangling on the dirt floor | |
In the silhouette of dying. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Well, yeah, they had plans for him | |
But they had spun the last of the pimps | |
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips | |
While the guillotine just laughed again. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
And the paramedics had fallen into the wound | |
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant, | |
An anaesthetic penance beneath | |
The hail of contraband. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way... | |
Dancin' on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Dancin' on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Callous heels, | |
Numbed in travel | |
Endless maps made | |
By their scalpels. | |
Scalpels. | |
Callous heels, | |
Numbed in travel | |
Endless maps made | |
By their scalpels. | |
Scalpels... |
zuò cí : At The Drive In | |
Intravenously polite, it was the walkietalkies | |
That had knocked the pins down | |
As their shoes gripped the dirt floor | |
In the silhouette of dying. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Yeah, they had plans for him | |
But they had spun the last of the pimps | |
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips | |
While the guillotine just laughed again. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
And the paramedics fell into the wound | |
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant, | |
An anaesthetic penance beneath | |
The hail of contraband. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
They had defected and been excommunicated | |
And all the pulses were subverted, | |
And they made sure the obituaries | |
Showed pictures of smoke stacks. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
A vivid dissection that mocked | |
The strut of vivisection | |
A semiautomatic colony | |
And a silencing that still walks the streets. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
In the company of wolves | |
Was a stretcher made of | |
Cobblestone curfews. | |
And the federales performed | |
Their custodial customs quite well. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Intravenously polite, it was the walkietalkies | |
That had knocked the pins down | |
As their shoes lay dangling on the dirt floor | |
In the silhouette of dying. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Well, yeah, they had plans for him | |
But they had spun the last of the pimps | |
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips | |
While the guillotine just laughed again. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes... | |
And the paramedics had fallen into the wound | |
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant, | |
An anaesthetic penance beneath | |
The hail of contraband. Dancing on the corpse' s ashes. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way, | |
Nails broke and fell | |
Into the Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
Wishing well. | |
On my way... | |
Dancin' on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Dancin' on the corpse' s ashes... | |
Callous heels, | |
Numbed in travel | |
Endless maps made | |
By their scalpels. | |
Scalpels. | |
Callous heels, | |
Numbed in travel | |
Endless maps made | |
By their scalpels. | |
Scalpels... |