Song | Vacate |
Artist | Keller Williams |
Album | Loop |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Williams | |
there's a line in the sky | |
its jet exhaust | |
its moccassin looking straight cloud | |
and if you turn your head sideways | |
it can look like a distant twister | |
coming to swing a cow | |
a quarter mile | |
in three seconds. | |
and lift up my camper and drop her down | |
not so gently | |
ain't nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain't nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses | |
we must secure the area | |
and dust for prints | |
let the evidence be fondled | |
mentally attempt to solve | |
the mystery thats before you | |
with clues and leeches poppin up | |
take em down town for questioning | |
ain't nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain't nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses | |
you have the right to remain silent | |
as well as to yell! | |
at the top of your lungs | |
why abuse your rights | |
why not abuse your wrongs | |
its there where the fun begins and the things | |
we see in the clouds become real | |
she creeps by candle light | |
shadows to start conversing | |
and the flowers on the bedspread | |
waiting to suck me up | |
i drift to unconciousness | |
only to awake | |
till metal starts grinding on pavement | |
riding next to my head | |
line in the sky | |
its jet exhaust | |
its mocassin looking straight cloud | |
and if you turn your head sideways | |
it can look like a distant twister | |
coming to swing a cow | |
a quarter mile | |
in three seconds | |
a lift up my camper and drop her down | |
not so gently | |
ain't nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain't nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses |
zuo qu : Williams | |
there' s a line in the sky | |
its jet exhaust | |
its moccassin looking straight cloud | |
and if you turn your head sideways | |
it can look like a distant twister | |
coming to swing a cow | |
a quarter mile | |
in three seconds. | |
and lift up my camper and drop her down | |
not so gently | |
ain' t nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain' t nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses | |
we must secure the area | |
and dust for prints | |
let the evidence be fondled | |
mentally attempt to solve | |
the mystery thats before you | |
with clues and leeches poppin up | |
take em down town for questioning | |
ain' t nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain' t nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses | |
you have the right to remain silent | |
as well as to yell! | |
at the top of your lungs | |
why abuse your rights | |
why not abuse your wrongs | |
its there where the fun begins and the things | |
we see in the clouds become real | |
she creeps by candle light | |
shadows to start conversing | |
and the flowers on the bedspread | |
waiting to suck me up | |
i drift to unconciousness | |
only to awake | |
till metal starts grinding on pavement | |
riding next to my head | |
line in the sky | |
its jet exhaust | |
its mocassin looking straight cloud | |
and if you turn your head sideways | |
it can look like a distant twister | |
coming to swing a cow | |
a quarter mile | |
in three seconds | |
a lift up my camper and drop her down | |
not so gently | |
ain' t nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain' t nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses |
zuò qǔ : Williams | |
there' s a line in the sky | |
its jet exhaust | |
its moccassin looking straight cloud | |
and if you turn your head sideways | |
it can look like a distant twister | |
coming to swing a cow | |
a quarter mile | |
in three seconds. | |
and lift up my camper and drop her down | |
not so gently | |
ain' t nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain' t nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses | |
we must secure the area | |
and dust for prints | |
let the evidence be fondled | |
mentally attempt to solve | |
the mystery thats before you | |
with clues and leeches poppin up | |
take em down town for questioning | |
ain' t nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain' t nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses | |
you have the right to remain silent | |
as well as to yell! | |
at the top of your lungs | |
why abuse your rights | |
why not abuse your wrongs | |
its there where the fun begins and the things | |
we see in the clouds become real | |
she creeps by candle light | |
shadows to start conversing | |
and the flowers on the bedspread | |
waiting to suck me up | |
i drift to unconciousness | |
only to awake | |
till metal starts grinding on pavement | |
riding next to my head | |
line in the sky | |
its jet exhaust | |
its mocassin looking straight cloud | |
and if you turn your head sideways | |
it can look like a distant twister | |
coming to swing a cow | |
a quarter mile | |
in three seconds | |
a lift up my camper and drop her down | |
not so gently | |
ain' t nothing to worry about | |
its all under control | |
ain' t nothing to see here | |
please vacate the premisses |