No Parachutes Lyrics
| Song | No Parachutes |
| Artist | Throwing Muses |
| Album | Hunkpapa |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Hersh | |
| Pushing a ribcage | |
| Makes it hard to breathe | |
| And yet we hold our sweaty hands | |
| Year after year | |
| Some new year | |
| Without music in our head | |
| Newspaper tenement coming up dead | |
| So my paracute is hanging around | |
| I guess I bust it on the ground | |
| Nothing helps me fall | |
| Nothing helps me float | |
| Today I want to walk away | |
| Pushing a ribcage | |
| Makes it hard to breathe | |
| And yet we whisper in the dark | |
| Year after year | |
| Some new year | |
| Without newness in our head | |
| Newspaper tenement coming up dead | |
| So my paracute is hanging around | |
| I guess I bust it on the ground | |
| Nothing helps me fall | |
| Nothing helps me float | |
| Today I want to walk away |
| zuo ci : Hersh | |
| Pushing a ribcage | |
| Makes it hard to breathe | |
| And yet we hold our sweaty hands | |
| Year after year | |
| Some new year | |
| Without music in our head | |
| Newspaper tenement coming up dead | |
| So my paracute is hanging around | |
| I guess I bust it on the ground | |
| Nothing helps me fall | |
| Nothing helps me float | |
| Today I want to walk away | |
| Pushing a ribcage | |
| Makes it hard to breathe | |
| And yet we whisper in the dark | |
| Year after year | |
| Some new year | |
| Without newness in our head | |
| Newspaper tenement coming up dead | |
| So my paracute is hanging around | |
| I guess I bust it on the ground | |
| Nothing helps me fall | |
| Nothing helps me float | |
| Today I want to walk away |
| zuò cí : Hersh | |
| Pushing a ribcage | |
| Makes it hard to breathe | |
| And yet we hold our sweaty hands | |
| Year after year | |
| Some new year | |
| Without music in our head | |
| Newspaper tenement coming up dead | |
| So my paracute is hanging around | |
| I guess I bust it on the ground | |
| Nothing helps me fall | |
| Nothing helps me float | |
| Today I want to walk away | |
| Pushing a ribcage | |
| Makes it hard to breathe | |
| And yet we whisper in the dark | |
| Year after year | |
| Some new year | |
| Without newness in our head | |
| Newspaper tenement coming up dead | |
| So my paracute is hanging around | |
| I guess I bust it on the ground | |
| Nothing helps me fall | |
| Nothing helps me float | |
| Today I want to walk away |
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