Song | Warm Machine |
Artist | Bush |
Album | The Science of Things |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Rossdale | |
I memorize the basics | |
Making strange faces | |
There's a thousand miles to go | |
Without blinking | |
Gravitate spacewards | |
Find a home for the head | |
From my basement | |
No darkness ever left | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Some days are playful | |
Making play faces | |
But we will not let it through | |
The darkness and the sense | |
Or being born to lose | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Her comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
This is the life | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
If I never know we can only feel | |
I'll take the help | |
I'll take a slice | |
Warm alright now | |
Cos I feel alright | |
I memorize the basics, basics, basics | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine, machine, machine… |
zuo ci : Rossdale | |
I memorize the basics | |
Making strange faces | |
There' s a thousand miles to go | |
Without blinking | |
Gravitate spacewards | |
Find a home for the head | |
From my basement | |
No darkness ever left | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Some days are playful | |
Making play faces | |
But we will not let it through | |
The darkness and the sense | |
Or being born to lose | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Her comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
This is the life | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
If I never know we can only feel | |
I' ll take the help | |
I' ll take a slice | |
Warm alright now | |
Cos I feel alright | |
I memorize the basics, basics, basics | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine, machine, machine |
zuò cí : Rossdale | |
I memorize the basics | |
Making strange faces | |
There' s a thousand miles to go | |
Without blinking | |
Gravitate spacewards | |
Find a home for the head | |
From my basement | |
No darkness ever left | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Some days are playful | |
Making play faces | |
But we will not let it through | |
The darkness and the sense | |
Or being born to lose | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Her comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
This is the life | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
If I never know we can only feel | |
I' ll take the help | |
I' ll take a slice | |
Warm alright now | |
Cos I feel alright | |
I memorize the basics, basics, basics | |
This is the night | |
This is the sound | |
Here comes the warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine | |
Such a warm machine, machine, machine |