| Song | Turn Soonest To The Sea |
| Artist | Protest the Hero |
| Album | Kezia |
| 作曲 : Protest The Hero | |
| Do you remember how it was when you bled? | |
| When you loved and burned in those flames that you've kept | |
| Because Vesta's long been sleeping | |
| And now you've come to accept that | |
| Your anatomy defines more than a few of the gaping holes in our social fabric | |
| More than a few one night stands, more than a few prison bars melted into wedding bands | |
| We've made you all the peasants and we've made ourselves the kings | |
| Our queens are still subordinate as an angel without wings | |
| We make it easy to belong which means it's easy to be wrong" | |
| Put some plastic in your tits, and you'd look better as a blonde" | |
| I remember when you were hopeful | |
| And you never thought your life would be lived inside a coffin | |
| With a moral sacrifice and a million social obligations, labels and expectations | |
| You were young and modern seventeen in vogue and vague pursuit of a cosmopolitan dream | |
| When you bled on the bed as you fed those expectations as a whore and not a human | |
| You embraced with hesitation the parameters of all you can be | |
| Not a mother, not an aunt, not a sister who's not subdued | |
| Because dignity's not physical and your flesh means more than you | |
| Your flesh means more than you; your flesh means more than you | |
| Your flesh means more than you; your flesh means more than you | |
| I know we'll wake up one day with a gun to the back of our brains | |
| You'll be asking for your rib and | |
| I'll smile and call you brave | |
| Maybe someday when this bloody skull has dried | |
| I'll know our city is in ruins | |
| And the greatest source of pride is a monument of dicks and ribs and gender crowns we wore | |
| Where underneath, a plaque will read, " | |
| No woman is a whore" |
| zuò qǔ : Protest The Hero | |
| Do you remember how it was when you bled? | |
| When you loved and burned in those flames that you' ve kept | |
| Because Vesta' s long been sleeping | |
| And now you' ve come to accept that | |
| Your anatomy defines more than a few of the gaping holes in our social fabric | |
| More than a few one night stands, more than a few prison bars melted into wedding bands | |
| We' ve made you all the peasants and we' ve made ourselves the kings | |
| Our queens are still subordinate as an angel without wings | |
| We make it easy to belong which means it' s easy to be wrong" | |
| Put some plastic in your tits, and you' d look better as a blonde" | |
| I remember when you were hopeful | |
| And you never thought your life would be lived inside a coffin | |
| With a moral sacrifice and a million social obligations, labels and expectations | |
| You were young and modern seventeen in vogue and vague pursuit of a cosmopolitan dream | |
| When you bled on the bed as you fed those expectations as a whore and not a human | |
| You embraced with hesitation the parameters of all you can be | |
| Not a mother, not an aunt, not a sister who' s not subdued | |
| Because dignity' s not physical and your flesh means more than you | |
| Your flesh means more than you your flesh means more than you | |
| Your flesh means more than you your flesh means more than you | |
| I know we' ll wake up one day with a gun to the back of our brains | |
| You' ll be asking for your rib and | |
| I' ll smile and call you brave | |
| Maybe someday when this bloody skull has dried | |
| I' ll know our city is in ruins | |
| And the greatest source of pride is a monument of dicks and ribs and gender crowns we wore | |
| Where underneath, a plaque will read, " | |
| No woman is a whore" |