Song | Boiled Frogs |
Artist | Alexisonfire |
Album | Crisis |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Alexisonfire | |
A man sits at his desk | |
One year from retirement | |
And he's up for review | |
Not quite sure what to do | |
Each passing year | |
The workload grows | |
I'm always wishing | |
I'm always wishing too late | |
For things to go my way | |
It always ends up the same | |
Count your blessings | |
I must be missing | |
I must be missing the point | |
Your signal fades away | |
And all I'm left with is noise | |
Count your blessings on one hand | |
So wait up, | |
I'm not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There's so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
Poor little tin man | |
Still swinging his axe | |
Even though his joints | |
Are clogged with rust | |
My youth is slipping | |
My youth is slipping away | |
Safe in monotony | |
So safe, day after day | |
Count your blessings | |
My youth is slipping | |
My youth is slipping away | |
Cold wind blows off the lake | |
And I know for sure that it's too late | |
Count your blessings on one hand | |
So wait up, | |
I'm not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There's so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
Can't help but feel betrayed | |
Punch the clock every single day | |
There's no loyalty and no remorse | |
Youth sold for a pension cheque | |
And it makes him ****ing sick | |
He's heating up, he can't say no | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
So wait up, | |
I'm not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There's so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
So wait up | |
I'm not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
Between the light and shallow waves | |
Is where I'm going to die | |
Wait up for me | |
Wait up for me | |
Wait up for me |
zuo qu : Alexisonfire | |
A man sits at his desk | |
One year from retirement | |
And he' s up for review | |
Not quite sure what to do | |
Each passing year | |
The workload grows | |
I' m always wishing | |
I' m always wishing too late | |
For things to go my way | |
It always ends up the same | |
Count your blessings | |
I must be missing | |
I must be missing the point | |
Your signal fades away | |
And all I' m left with is noise | |
Count your blessings on one hand | |
So wait up, | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There' s so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
Poor little tin man | |
Still swinging his axe | |
Even though his joints | |
Are clogged with rust | |
My youth is slipping | |
My youth is slipping away | |
Safe in monotony | |
So safe, day after day | |
Count your blessings | |
My youth is slipping | |
My youth is slipping away | |
Cold wind blows off the lake | |
And I know for sure that it' s too late | |
Count your blessings on one hand | |
So wait up, | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There' s so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
Can' t help but feel betrayed | |
Punch the clock every single day | |
There' s no loyalty and no remorse | |
Youth sold for a pension cheque | |
And it makes him ing sick | |
He' s heating up, he can' t say no | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
So wait up, | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There' s so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
So wait up | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
Between the light and shallow waves | |
Is where I' m going to die | |
Wait up for me | |
Wait up for me | |
Wait up for me |
zuò qǔ : Alexisonfire | |
A man sits at his desk | |
One year from retirement | |
And he' s up for review | |
Not quite sure what to do | |
Each passing year | |
The workload grows | |
I' m always wishing | |
I' m always wishing too late | |
For things to go my way | |
It always ends up the same | |
Count your blessings | |
I must be missing | |
I must be missing the point | |
Your signal fades away | |
And all I' m left with is noise | |
Count your blessings on one hand | |
So wait up, | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There' s so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
Poor little tin man | |
Still swinging his axe | |
Even though his joints | |
Are clogged with rust | |
My youth is slipping | |
My youth is slipping away | |
Safe in monotony | |
So safe, day after day | |
Count your blessings | |
My youth is slipping | |
My youth is slipping away | |
Cold wind blows off the lake | |
And I know for sure that it' s too late | |
Count your blessings on one hand | |
So wait up, | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There' s so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
Can' t help but feel betrayed | |
Punch the clock every single day | |
There' s no loyalty and no remorse | |
Youth sold for a pension cheque | |
And it makes him ing sick | |
He' s heating up, he can' t say no | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
So wait up, | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
There' s so much to dream about | |
There must be more to my life | |
So wait up | |
I' m not sleeping | |
Alone again tonight | |
Between the light and shallow waves | |
Is where I' m going to die | |
Wait up for me | |
Wait up for me | |
Wait up for me |