Song | (Pop)Ular SciencE |
Artist | Bayside |
Album | The Walking Wounded (Gold Edition) |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Bayside | |
Nothing feels right, | |
But my fake smiles paint pictures like everything's fine. | |
Sheep like what they're told, | |
So they've got spindles spinning bad songs into gold. | |
And who decides what's wrong or right to like? | |
When the puzzle pieces twist, | |
And seem like they won't fit their match, | |
I'll be waiting, | |
I'll be waiting. | |
All the "best" songs, | |
What's so "best" about 'em? | |
I thought | |
I was part of something more, | |
But more money, less substance, more demand. | |
And I've heard great songs that no one understands. | |
You can't lay bricks on wet cement or build castles out of sand. | |
But who decides? | |
But when the puzzle pieces twist, | |
And seem like they won't fit their match, | |
Then I will try and try again, | |
And hope that someone understands. | |
I'll be waiting, | |
I'll be waiting. | |
And they can't say they love you, | |
But it still won't change a thing, 'cause the tides may turn tomorrow | |
And I won't be there to look. | |
I can say - | |
I've got to say - | |
Dollar by dollar, your soul gets smaller, | |
Trending what we fought to make ours. | |
They don't care about, | |
They don't care. | |
It's a good thing bad trends fade away. | |
It's so much cooler in the shade. | |
They don't care about, | |
They don't care. | |
We give in nightly to our addiction. | |
A self-afflicted public crucifixion. | |
They don't care about, | |
They don't care. | |
Dollar by dollar, your soul gets smaller, | |
Trending what we fought to make ours. | |
They don't care about, | |
They don't care about, | |
They don't care, | |
They never cared. |
zuo qu : Bayside | |
Nothing feels right, | |
But my fake smiles paint pictures like everything' s fine. | |
Sheep like what they' re told, | |
So they' ve got spindles spinning bad songs into gold. | |
And who decides what' s wrong or right to like? | |
When the puzzle pieces twist, | |
And seem like they won' t fit their match, | |
I' ll be waiting, | |
I' ll be waiting. | |
All the " best" songs, | |
What' s so " best" about ' em? | |
I thought | |
I was part of something more, | |
But more money, less substance, more demand. | |
And I' ve heard great songs that no one understands. | |
You can' t lay bricks on wet cement or build castles out of sand. | |
But who decides? | |
But when the puzzle pieces twist, | |
And seem like they won' t fit their match, | |
Then I will try and try again, | |
And hope that someone understands. | |
I' ll be waiting, | |
I' ll be waiting. | |
And they can' t say they love you, | |
But it still won' t change a thing, ' cause the tides may turn tomorrow | |
And I won' t be there to look. | |
I can say | |
I' ve got to say | |
Dollar by dollar, your soul gets smaller, | |
Trending what we fought to make ours. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care. | |
It' s a good thing bad trends fade away. | |
It' s so much cooler in the shade. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care. | |
We give in nightly to our addiction. | |
A selfafflicted public crucifixion. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care. | |
Dollar by dollar, your soul gets smaller, | |
Trending what we fought to make ours. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care, | |
They never cared. |
zuò qǔ : Bayside | |
Nothing feels right, | |
But my fake smiles paint pictures like everything' s fine. | |
Sheep like what they' re told, | |
So they' ve got spindles spinning bad songs into gold. | |
And who decides what' s wrong or right to like? | |
When the puzzle pieces twist, | |
And seem like they won' t fit their match, | |
I' ll be waiting, | |
I' ll be waiting. | |
All the " best" songs, | |
What' s so " best" about ' em? | |
I thought | |
I was part of something more, | |
But more money, less substance, more demand. | |
And I' ve heard great songs that no one understands. | |
You can' t lay bricks on wet cement or build castles out of sand. | |
But who decides? | |
But when the puzzle pieces twist, | |
And seem like they won' t fit their match, | |
Then I will try and try again, | |
And hope that someone understands. | |
I' ll be waiting, | |
I' ll be waiting. | |
And they can' t say they love you, | |
But it still won' t change a thing, ' cause the tides may turn tomorrow | |
And I won' t be there to look. | |
I can say | |
I' ve got to say | |
Dollar by dollar, your soul gets smaller, | |
Trending what we fought to make ours. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care. | |
It' s a good thing bad trends fade away. | |
It' s so much cooler in the shade. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care. | |
We give in nightly to our addiction. | |
A selfafflicted public crucifixion. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care. | |
Dollar by dollar, your soul gets smaller, | |
Trending what we fought to make ours. | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care about, | |
They don' t care, | |
They never cared. |