T.F.F.T.T. Lyrics
| Song | T.F.F.T.T. |
| Artist | Moemaw Naedon |
| Artist | Billy Hoyle |
| Album | Travel Through |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Moemaw Naedon | |
| 作曲 : Moemaw Naedon/Billy Hoyle | |
| eyelids separate when they close gates | |
| dream state fade away in the head space | |
| black circles dilated, dark walls | |
| not yet hit by the glow of the fireball | |
| no time to wonder why, movement automatic | |
| horizontal line dollar sign problematic | |
| operate at times autopilot | |
| light stay lit in the should got to find it | |
| open the entrance to the residence | |
| i see the trees but the forrest more prevalent | |
| still the shape of the woods transform | |
| like the clouds in the eye of a storm | |
| main idea vague ever changing | |
| the evergreens on the peeks rearranging | |
| catch the water from the snow when it trickle down | |
| sweat beads drip off the dips in the brow | |
| human hands meant to construct | |
| the feet and legs meant to work together on the hunt | |
| so why we act like the grind aint part of the plan | |
| through the trees see the sun peak over the land | |
| the scheme, the big painting in the frame | |
| i hold it sacred staying in the same lane | |
| but the path curves and sometimes stops | |
| where the leaves lay undisturbed by the rocks | |
| twigs crack wings flap on the dispatch | |
| think back when the roots grew through the ash | |
| thought it might be impossible to build it up | |
| still don't know if the earth lay still enough | |
| still im up when the sun cut through the trunks | |
| no matter what cant stop when i had enough | |
| the helicopter seed pods spin in the breeze | |
| to build the forest i try to see for the trees | |
| born to see more than what disorder breeds | |
| explore the scene uphill where the border leads | |
| theres more than meets the eyes of the hawk | |
| the shadow on the green canopy float across | |
| with the kills in the claws headed back to the nest | |
| i wont exhaust all the skills in my set | |
| spread it thick, lush and healthy | |
| the quick route is a thinned out helping | |
| the elk drink from a stream thats constant | |
| flow don't stop in the motion of progress | |
| offering life from death in the talons | |
| each one need one for the balance | |
| surrounded by breath clandestine | |
| lost my step but i kept my direction | |
| etched in to the side of a tree | |
| was a map of the landscape incomplete |
| zuo ci : Moemaw Naedon | |
| zuo qu : Moemaw Naedon Billy Hoyle | |
| eyelids separate when they close gates | |
| dream state fade away in the head space | |
| black circles dilated, dark walls | |
| not yet hit by the glow of the fireball | |
| no time to wonder why, movement automatic | |
| horizontal line dollar sign problematic | |
| operate at times autopilot | |
| light stay lit in the should got to find it | |
| open the entrance to the residence | |
| i see the trees but the forrest more prevalent | |
| still the shape of the woods transform | |
| like the clouds in the eye of a storm | |
| main idea vague ever changing | |
| the evergreens on the peeks rearranging | |
| catch the water from the snow when it trickle down | |
| sweat beads drip off the dips in the brow | |
| human hands meant to construct | |
| the feet and legs meant to work together on the hunt | |
| so why we act like the grind aint part of the plan | |
| through the trees see the sun peak over the land | |
| the scheme, the big painting in the frame | |
| i hold it sacred staying in the same lane | |
| but the path curves and sometimes stops | |
| where the leaves lay undisturbed by the rocks | |
| twigs crack wings flap on the dispatch | |
| think back when the roots grew through the ash | |
| thought it might be impossible to build it up | |
| still don' t know if the earth lay still enough | |
| still im up when the sun cut through the trunks | |
| no matter what cant stop when i had enough | |
| the helicopter seed pods spin in the breeze | |
| to build the forest i try to see for the trees | |
| born to see more than what disorder breeds | |
| explore the scene uphill where the border leads | |
| theres more than meets the eyes of the hawk | |
| the shadow on the green canopy float across | |
| with the kills in the claws headed back to the nest | |
| i wont exhaust all the skills in my set | |
| spread it thick, lush and healthy | |
| the quick route is a thinned out helping | |
| the elk drink from a stream thats constant | |
| flow don' t stop in the motion of progress | |
| offering life from death in the talons | |
| each one need one for the balance | |
| surrounded by breath clandestine | |
| lost my step but i kept my direction | |
| etched in to the side of a tree | |
| was a map of the landscape incomplete |
| zuò cí : Moemaw Naedon | |
| zuò qǔ : Moemaw Naedon Billy Hoyle | |
| eyelids separate when they close gates | |
| dream state fade away in the head space | |
| black circles dilated, dark walls | |
| not yet hit by the glow of the fireball | |
| no time to wonder why, movement automatic | |
| horizontal line dollar sign problematic | |
| operate at times autopilot | |
| light stay lit in the should got to find it | |
| open the entrance to the residence | |
| i see the trees but the forrest more prevalent | |
| still the shape of the woods transform | |
| like the clouds in the eye of a storm | |
| main idea vague ever changing | |
| the evergreens on the peeks rearranging | |
| catch the water from the snow when it trickle down | |
| sweat beads drip off the dips in the brow | |
| human hands meant to construct | |
| the feet and legs meant to work together on the hunt | |
| so why we act like the grind aint part of the plan | |
| through the trees see the sun peak over the land | |
| the scheme, the big painting in the frame | |
| i hold it sacred staying in the same lane | |
| but the path curves and sometimes stops | |
| where the leaves lay undisturbed by the rocks | |
| twigs crack wings flap on the dispatch | |
| think back when the roots grew through the ash | |
| thought it might be impossible to build it up | |
| still don' t know if the earth lay still enough | |
| still im up when the sun cut through the trunks | |
| no matter what cant stop when i had enough | |
| the helicopter seed pods spin in the breeze | |
| to build the forest i try to see for the trees | |
| born to see more than what disorder breeds | |
| explore the scene uphill where the border leads | |
| theres more than meets the eyes of the hawk | |
| the shadow on the green canopy float across | |
| with the kills in the claws headed back to the nest | |
| i wont exhaust all the skills in my set | |
| spread it thick, lush and healthy | |
| the quick route is a thinned out helping | |
| the elk drink from a stream thats constant | |
| flow don' t stop in the motion of progress | |
| offering life from death in the talons | |
| each one need one for the balance | |
| surrounded by breath clandestine | |
| lost my step but i kept my direction | |
| etched in to the side of a tree | |
| was a map of the landscape incomplete |
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