Song | Their City |
Artist | The Matches |
Album | A Band In Hope |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
We hide | |
As their sidewalks crawl diseased | |
The ever-shopping hopping fleas | |
Their engines hum the sun's reprise | |
We rise | |
To skies punctured with stars | |
She steers us through her Dogpatch bars | |
A barback nods, he's one of ours | |
As they sleep | |
Their city is awake and wide | |
Their city is awake and wide | |
We're aching inside, aching | |
Mistakes are waiting | |
To take me for a ride | |
My blood finally thick enough to drive | |
Marianne, last touch: 5:45 | |
The highway's already alive | |
With the khakis teeming with caffeine | |
To coax the cursor 'cross the screen | |
The nervous tic-talking machine | |
All the lights go green | |
For me, Lord Legless, and my Sacred Rose queen | |
Ah - my Marianne | |
Tell your old man | |
We're nothing | |
Ah - my Marianne | |
Tell your old man we're nothing serious | |
From Lower Haight | |
To Sea Cliff Estates | |
Sped past their finest | |
Yet gave no chase | |
Brought our feast (their city) | |
Of Mission grease (their city) | |
To freeze our tits off (their city's awake) | |
On Baker Beach (their city's awake) | |
We rolled back to Polk (you rolled a smoke) (their city) | |
You killed the beams (and then I spoke) (their city) | |
Marianne I'm half his age | |
I'm half the man | |
Tell your old man | |
We're nothing serious |
zuo qu : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
We hide | |
As their sidewalks crawl diseased | |
The evershopping hopping fleas | |
Their engines hum the sun' s reprise | |
We rise | |
To skies punctured with stars | |
She steers us through her Dogpatch bars | |
A barback nods, he' s one of ours | |
As they sleep | |
Their city is awake and wide | |
Their city is awake and wide | |
We' re aching inside, aching | |
Mistakes are waiting | |
To take me for a ride | |
My blood finally thick enough to drive | |
Marianne, last touch: 5: 45 | |
The highway' s already alive | |
With the khakis teeming with caffeine | |
To coax the cursor ' cross the screen | |
The nervous tictalking machine | |
All the lights go green | |
For me, Lord Legless, and my Sacred Rose queen | |
Ah my Marianne | |
Tell your old man | |
We' re nothing | |
Ah my Marianne | |
Tell your old man we' re nothing serious | |
From Lower Haight | |
To Sea Cliff Estates | |
Sped past their finest | |
Yet gave no chase | |
Brought our feast their city | |
Of Mission grease their city | |
To freeze our tits off their city' s awake | |
On Baker Beach their city' s awake | |
We rolled back to Polk you rolled a smoke their city | |
You killed the beams and then I spoke their city | |
Marianne I' m half his age | |
I' m half the man | |
Tell your old man | |
We' re nothing serious |
zuò qǔ : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
We hide | |
As their sidewalks crawl diseased | |
The evershopping hopping fleas | |
Their engines hum the sun' s reprise | |
We rise | |
To skies punctured with stars | |
She steers us through her Dogpatch bars | |
A barback nods, he' s one of ours | |
As they sleep | |
Their city is awake and wide | |
Their city is awake and wide | |
We' re aching inside, aching | |
Mistakes are waiting | |
To take me for a ride | |
My blood finally thick enough to drive | |
Marianne, last touch: 5: 45 | |
The highway' s already alive | |
With the khakis teeming with caffeine | |
To coax the cursor ' cross the screen | |
The nervous tictalking machine | |
All the lights go green | |
For me, Lord Legless, and my Sacred Rose queen | |
Ah my Marianne | |
Tell your old man | |
We' re nothing | |
Ah my Marianne | |
Tell your old man we' re nothing serious | |
From Lower Haight | |
To Sea Cliff Estates | |
Sped past their finest | |
Yet gave no chase | |
Brought our feast their city | |
Of Mission grease their city | |
To freeze our tits off their city' s awake | |
On Baker Beach their city' s awake | |
We rolled back to Polk you rolled a smoke their city | |
You killed the beams and then I spoke their city | |
Marianne I' m half his age | |
I' m half the man | |
Tell your old man | |
We' re nothing serious |