The Lisbon Girls, Oh The Lisbon Girls Lyrics
| Song | The Lisbon Girls, Oh The Lisbon Girls |
| Artist | Fear Before the March of Flames |
| Album | Odd How People Shake |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Fear Before the March of Flames ... | |
| This empty chest. | |
| This hollow throbbing. | |
| This empty shell. | |
| Will help you sleep. | |
| And your name will come in time. | |
| For now take a number. | |
| This is a surrender skin | |
| This is hanging on | |
| Sing the high notes, touch his hand. | |
| This is giving up | |
| Faces on! | |
| Faces on! | |
| We are pretty when we are faking. | |
| I am such a liar when | |
| I smile. Son comes home to take solace in his mirror (the stains of God's loving embrace still ripe around his throat) | |
| Only to find he's no longer human | |
| Father don't you cut the rope | |
| I want to die here | |
| Open eyes, dinner, a chandelier | |
| This empty chest. | |
| This hollow throbbing. | |
| This empty shell. | |
| Will help you sleep. | |
| And your name will come in time. | |
| For now take a number. | |
| A chandelier. | |
| Not another breather. | |
| The sirens must flock to a new destination. |
| zuo qu : Fear Before the March of Flames ... | |
| This empty chest. | |
| This hollow throbbing. | |
| This empty shell. | |
| Will help you sleep. | |
| And your name will come in time. | |
| For now take a number. | |
| This is a surrender skin | |
| This is hanging on | |
| Sing the high notes, touch his hand. | |
| This is giving up | |
| Faces on! | |
| Faces on! | |
| We are pretty when we are faking. | |
| I am such a liar when | |
| I smile. Son comes home to take solace in his mirror the stains of God' s loving embrace still ripe around his throat | |
| Only to find he' s no longer human | |
| Father don' t you cut the rope | |
| I want to die here | |
| Open eyes, dinner, a chandelier | |
| This empty chest. | |
| This hollow throbbing. | |
| This empty shell. | |
| Will help you sleep. | |
| And your name will come in time. | |
| For now take a number. | |
| A chandelier. | |
| Not another breather. | |
| The sirens must flock to a new destination. |
| zuò qǔ : Fear Before the March of Flames ... | |
| This empty chest. | |
| This hollow throbbing. | |
| This empty shell. | |
| Will help you sleep. | |
| And your name will come in time. | |
| For now take a number. | |
| This is a surrender skin | |
| This is hanging on | |
| Sing the high notes, touch his hand. | |
| This is giving up | |
| Faces on! | |
| Faces on! | |
| We are pretty when we are faking. | |
| I am such a liar when | |
| I smile. Son comes home to take solace in his mirror the stains of God' s loving embrace still ripe around his throat | |
| Only to find he' s no longer human | |
| Father don' t you cut the rope | |
| I want to die here | |
| Open eyes, dinner, a chandelier | |
| This empty chest. | |
| This hollow throbbing. | |
| This empty shell. | |
| Will help you sleep. | |
| And your name will come in time. | |
| For now take a number. | |
| A chandelier. | |
| Not another breather. | |
| The sirens must flock to a new destination. |
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