Song | Scatter |
Artist | Tek & Iota |
Artist | Strangelove |
Artist | Phyllis Ophelia |
Album | Omni |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Tek/Strangelove/Phyllis Ophelia | |
作曲 : IOTA/Tek | |
[Verse 1: Tek] | |
Slipping off the disc like | |
Saturn on the fritz, rocking patterns out of synchrony | |
I dropped the planet outta clutch | |
Walk in to that dust to dust from daylight to the dusk with me | |
I am bits strung together | |
Like iotas on the pattern | |
Locking only when it mattered on it | |
I tried to focus on the matter, talking to myself | |
The cells had broken up and scattered from me | |
One-night untethered to poles | |
That’s exactly when the sediments shown I tried to check | |
It’s like | |
[Bridge: Phyllis Ophelia] | |
You’re in a dream that I remember | |
From my fever from my temper | |
Lost and found | |
Star came out | |
Cut through the clouds | |
Shone in our mouths | |
Dripped down | |
Pierced the ground | |
[Verse 2: Strangelove] | |
Captive of the after effects | |
I was gasping as if it was my last breath | |
Last respects at the scene of the crash test | |
Your picking all the pieces up to read em in past tense | |
When you walk in the shallow end of the water | |
There will be no more current for you to follow | |
Follow form or form a line under fortunes eyes in the morning | |
Or that formula that formed you will get torn up by tomorrow | |
For all of your hollow headed bravado | |
Probably swallowed it in silent decision | |
As time as my witness | |
When you falter and burden all of your pillars | |
There can be no alternative burn your bridges | |
[Bridge: Phyllis Ophelia] | |
[Outro: Tek] | |
When I return I come to | |
Lock into posture, steady the birds eye view | |
Doctrines doctored, somebody chopped it | |
Scorchin the portrait, somebody torched it, I say | |
How long I’ve been coma? Howlin karma come and get me | |
Planet done had left me, Id've left me in a moment | |
I stay hot, neurally brown out, shots nearly drowned out | |
Soon I pop, don’t hear a sound, nobody had stopped | |
I stay looped, doin the count, when the down time wind out | |
Roots lose truth too, and the fine line lined out | |
And the loose screws who knew, woulda found out by now |
zuo ci : Tek Strangelove Phyllis Ophelia | |
zuo qu : IOTA Tek | |
Verse 1: Tek | |
Slipping off the disc like | |
Saturn on the fritz, rocking patterns out of synchrony | |
I dropped the planet outta clutch | |
Walk in to that dust to dust from daylight to the dusk with me | |
I am bits strung together | |
Like iotas on the pattern | |
Locking only when it mattered on it | |
I tried to focus on the matter, talking to myself | |
The cells had broken up and scattered from me | |
Onenight untethered to poles | |
That' s exactly when the sediments shown I tried to check | |
It' s like | |
Bridge: Phyllis Ophelia | |
You' re in a dream that I remember | |
From my fever from my temper | |
Lost and found | |
Star came out | |
Cut through the clouds | |
Shone in our mouths | |
Dripped down | |
Pierced the ground | |
Verse 2: Strangelove | |
Captive of the after effects | |
I was gasping as if it was my last breath | |
Last respects at the scene of the crash test | |
Your picking all the pieces up to read em in past tense | |
When you walk in the shallow end of the water | |
There will be no more current for you to follow | |
Follow form or form a line under fortunes eyes in the morning | |
Or that formula that formed you will get torn up by tomorrow | |
For all of your hollow headed bravado | |
Probably swallowed it in silent decision | |
As time as my witness | |
When you falter and burden all of your pillars | |
There can be no alternative burn your bridges | |
Bridge: Phyllis Ophelia | |
Outro: Tek | |
When I return I come to | |
Lock into posture, steady the birds eye view | |
Doctrines doctored, somebody chopped it | |
Scorchin the portrait, somebody torched it, I say | |
How long I' ve been coma? Howlin karma come and get me | |
Planet done had left me, Id' ve left me in a moment | |
I stay hot, neurally brown out, shots nearly drowned out | |
Soon I pop, don' t hear a sound, nobody had stopped | |
I stay looped, doin the count, when the down time wind out | |
Roots lose truth too, and the fine line lined out | |
And the loose screws who knew, woulda found out by now |
zuò cí : Tek Strangelove Phyllis Ophelia | |
zuò qǔ : IOTA Tek | |
Verse 1: Tek | |
Slipping off the disc like | |
Saturn on the fritz, rocking patterns out of synchrony | |
I dropped the planet outta clutch | |
Walk in to that dust to dust from daylight to the dusk with me | |
I am bits strung together | |
Like iotas on the pattern | |
Locking only when it mattered on it | |
I tried to focus on the matter, talking to myself | |
The cells had broken up and scattered from me | |
Onenight untethered to poles | |
That' s exactly when the sediments shown I tried to check | |
It' s like | |
Bridge: Phyllis Ophelia | |
You' re in a dream that I remember | |
From my fever from my temper | |
Lost and found | |
Star came out | |
Cut through the clouds | |
Shone in our mouths | |
Dripped down | |
Pierced the ground | |
Verse 2: Strangelove | |
Captive of the after effects | |
I was gasping as if it was my last breath | |
Last respects at the scene of the crash test | |
Your picking all the pieces up to read em in past tense | |
When you walk in the shallow end of the water | |
There will be no more current for you to follow | |
Follow form or form a line under fortunes eyes in the morning | |
Or that formula that formed you will get torn up by tomorrow | |
For all of your hollow headed bravado | |
Probably swallowed it in silent decision | |
As time as my witness | |
When you falter and burden all of your pillars | |
There can be no alternative burn your bridges | |
Bridge: Phyllis Ophelia | |
Outro: Tek | |
When I return I come to | |
Lock into posture, steady the birds eye view | |
Doctrines doctored, somebody chopped it | |
Scorchin the portrait, somebody torched it, I say | |
How long I' ve been coma? Howlin karma come and get me | |
Planet done had left me, Id' ve left me in a moment | |
I stay hot, neurally brown out, shots nearly drowned out | |
Soon I pop, don' t hear a sound, nobody had stopped | |
I stay looped, doin the count, when the down time wind out | |
Roots lose truth too, and the fine line lined out | |
And the loose screws who knew, woulda found out by now |