| Song | As It Is When It Was |
| Artist | New Order |
| Album | Brotherhood |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : New Order | |
| I've kept my head against the wall | |
| I've been this way for so long now | |
| You weren't exactly falling over yourself | |
| When last | |
| I saw youWell | |
| I always thought | |
| We'd get along like a house on fire | |
| Until you told me that | |
| I'd have to go | |
| How can someone like you, work that slow? | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| I don't feel anything no more | |
| This state of grace is consuming me | |
| I'm not grown up and | |
| I am not a boy | |
| I feel no pain and | |
| I feel no joy | |
| Well, I always thought | |
| We'd get along like a house on fire | |
| In those days when the sun was warm | |
| I ran in the street where | |
| I was born | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| The streets are so empty at this time of night | |
| I'd rather walk on my own than fight | |
| In a world where | |
| I'd forgotten you | |
| I found myself forgotten, too | |
| That's the danger of believing books | |
| And all the lies of those thieves and crooks | |
| We sing intellectual songs of love | |
| From a stolen pen to a velvet glove |
| zuo ci : New Order | |
| I' ve kept my head against the wall | |
| I' ve been this way for so long now | |
| You weren' t exactly falling over yourself | |
| When last | |
| I saw youWell | |
| I always thought | |
| We' d get along like a house on fire | |
| Until you told me that | |
| I' d have to go | |
| How can someone like you, work that slow? | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| I don' t feel anything no more | |
| This state of grace is consuming me | |
| I' m not grown up and | |
| I am not a boy | |
| I feel no pain and | |
| I feel no joy | |
| Well, I always thought | |
| We' d get along like a house on fire | |
| In those days when the sun was warm | |
| I ran in the street where | |
| I was born | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| The streets are so empty at this time of night | |
| I' d rather walk on my own than fight | |
| In a world where | |
| I' d forgotten you | |
| I found myself forgotten, too | |
| That' s the danger of believing books | |
| And all the lies of those thieves and crooks | |
| We sing intellectual songs of love | |
| From a stolen pen to a velvet glove |
| zuò cí : New Order | |
| I' ve kept my head against the wall | |
| I' ve been this way for so long now | |
| You weren' t exactly falling over yourself | |
| When last | |
| I saw youWell | |
| I always thought | |
| We' d get along like a house on fire | |
| Until you told me that | |
| I' d have to go | |
| How can someone like you, work that slow? | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| I don' t feel anything no more | |
| This state of grace is consuming me | |
| I' m not grown up and | |
| I am not a boy | |
| I feel no pain and | |
| I feel no joy | |
| Well, I always thought | |
| We' d get along like a house on fire | |
| In those days when the sun was warm | |
| I ran in the street where | |
| I was born | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| Whatever you think of me | |
| You listen hard and | |
| I will make you see | |
| The streets are so empty at this time of night | |
| I' d rather walk on my own than fight | |
| In a world where | |
| I' d forgotten you | |
| I found myself forgotten, too | |
| That' s the danger of believing books | |
| And all the lies of those thieves and crooks | |
| We sing intellectual songs of love | |
| From a stolen pen to a velvet glove |