Suchness Lyrics
| Song | Suchness |
| Artist | Ghastly City Sleep |
| Album | Ghastly City Sleep |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Bennett, Broderick, Evans ... | |
| We're claustrophobic, | |
| Crushed up, | |
| Stifled, | |
| Closed in. | |
| Can't we keep the knife from cuttin' too deep! | |
| We're struggling | |
| And stammering for things to make sense. | |
| Those things, | |
| Those things don't make no sense. | |
| Don't make no sense. | |
| The doors are always | |
| OPEN | |
| Always | |
| And always | |
| CLOSED | |
| Sweepin' swiftly 'n | |
| Snatchin' up the children! | |
| Now | |
| They're fed by the hand | |
| Weeping gently down. gently down... | |
| Living like that... | |
| Shut up in a little glass box. | |
| Afraid of the dark... | |
| At a LOSS of words. | |
| Second guessing myself. | |
| To take the easy way out... | |
| Can you steady the seasick? | |
| There's a height in every depth. | |
| Now we're stuck in a Stinch. |
| zuo qu : Bennett, Broderick, Evans ... | |
| We' re claustrophobic, | |
| Crushed up, | |
| Stifled, | |
| Closed in. | |
| Can' t we keep the knife from cuttin' too deep! | |
| We' re struggling | |
| And stammering for things to make sense. | |
| Those things, | |
| Those things don' t make no sense. | |
| Don' t make no sense. | |
| The doors are always | |
| OPEN | |
| Always | |
| And always | |
| CLOSED | |
| Sweepin' swiftly ' n | |
| Snatchin' up the children! | |
| Now | |
| They' re fed by the hand | |
| Weeping gently down. gently down... | |
| Living like that... | |
| Shut up in a little glass box. | |
| Afraid of the dark... | |
| At a LOSS of words. | |
| Second guessing myself. | |
| To take the easy way out... | |
| Can you steady the seasick? | |
| There' s a height in every depth. | |
| Now we' re stuck in a Stinch. |
| zuò qǔ : Bennett, Broderick, Evans ... | |
| We' re claustrophobic, | |
| Crushed up, | |
| Stifled, | |
| Closed in. | |
| Can' t we keep the knife from cuttin' too deep! | |
| We' re struggling | |
| And stammering for things to make sense. | |
| Those things, | |
| Those things don' t make no sense. | |
| Don' t make no sense. | |
| The doors are always | |
| OPEN | |
| Always | |
| And always | |
| CLOSED | |
| Sweepin' swiftly ' n | |
| Snatchin' up the children! | |
| Now | |
| They' re fed by the hand | |
| Weeping gently down. gently down... | |
| Living like that... | |
| Shut up in a little glass box. | |
| Afraid of the dark... | |
| At a LOSS of words. | |
| Second guessing myself. | |
| To take the easy way out... | |
| Can you steady the seasick? | |
| There' s a height in every depth. | |
| Now we' re stuck in a Stinch. |
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