Gold Fronts 歌词

	作曲 : Gourley
	The sun bent down and spoke with the last of the lips
	They spoke of hell and things they'd never miss
	Bridge shelter and the cold creek bed
	That breaks backs and leads eyes down
	Until faces drag against the dirt and ears living in that muddy sound
	Where the white whales roll just once a year
	And the arm feeds the hatchet with an
	African appetite
	Matched machetes sparkle shine
	And shape that small-scale guillotine
	I’ve been getting pretty sleeping in these boxes
	With those blackened mule faces outside my door
	Shouting Oooohhhhh
	The club met the seal and the seal met the dog
	That carried the man to the end of the trail
	Where they walked down the streets pavement
	Was black beneath their feet
	I have been having a little trouble with these black glass lungs
	And dealing in the man with the gold tooth grin

	zuo qu : Gourley
	The sun bent down and spoke with the last of the lips
	They spoke of hell and things they' d never miss
	Bridge shelter and the cold creek bed
	That breaks backs and leads eyes down
	Until faces drag against the dirt and ears living in that muddy sound
	Where the white whales roll just once a year
	And the arm feeds the hatchet with an
	African appetite
	Matched machetes sparkle shine
	And shape that smallscale guillotine
	I' ve been getting pretty sleeping in these boxes
	With those blackened mule faces outside my door
	Shouting Oooohhhhh
	The club met the seal and the seal met the dog
	That carried the man to the end of the trail
	Where they walked down the streets pavement
	Was black beneath their feet
	I have been having a little trouble with these black glass lungs
	And dealing in the man with the gold tooth grin

	zuò qǔ : Gourley
	The sun bent down and spoke with the last of the lips
	They spoke of hell and things they' d never miss
	Bridge shelter and the cold creek bed
	That breaks backs and leads eyes down
	Until faces drag against the dirt and ears living in that muddy sound
	Where the white whales roll just once a year
	And the arm feeds the hatchet with an
	African appetite
	Matched machetes sparkle shine
	And shape that smallscale guillotine
	I' ve been getting pretty sleeping in these boxes
	With those blackened mule faces outside my door
	Shouting Oooohhhhh
	The club met the seal and the seal met the dog
	That carried the man to the end of the trail
	Where they walked down the streets pavement
	Was black beneath their feet
	I have been having a little trouble with these black glass lungs
	And dealing in the man with the gold tooth grin

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