A Plateful Of Our Dead Lyrics
| Song | A Plateful Of Our Dead |
| Artist | Protest the Hero |
| Album | Kezia |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Protest The Hero | |
| Don't ever ask us to define our morals | |
| Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak | |
| Some of us are all of us half-selves that love whole hopes | |
| And hara-kiri heartbreak | |
| There's almost nothing worse than never being real | |
| Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear | |
| If I had a gun, l'd pump your ethics full of lead | |
| If I believed in meat, l'd eat a plateful of our dead | |
| There's merit in destruction when it's done with your own hands | |
| There's beauty in construction, resurrection, another chance | |
| There's a you and | |
| I in union but just an | |
| I in our beliefs | |
| There's a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone's native | |
| The only proof that | |
| I have that we shot and killed this horse | |
| Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse | |
| The only proof that | |
| I have that we shot and killed this horse | |
| And a bleeding heart | |
| When l'm in this state of reflection and you hand me whips | |
| And two by fours, | |
| I could never bring them down, bring them down | |
| Bring them down and beat the same horse as before | |
| Bring them down, as before | |
| I'd rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds | |
| Until a garden with our bullet laden morals will be found | |
| I'd rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds | |
| Until a garden with our bullet laden morals will be found, will be found |
| zuo qu : Protest The Hero | |
| Don' t ever ask us to define our morals | |
| Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak | |
| Some of us are all of us halfselves that love whole hopes | |
| And harakiri heartbreak | |
| There' s almost nothing worse than never being real | |
| Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear | |
| If I had a gun, l' d pump your ethics full of lead | |
| If I believed in meat, l' d eat a plateful of our dead | |
| There' s merit in destruction when it' s done with your own hands | |
| There' s beauty in construction, resurrection, another chance | |
| There' s a you and | |
| I in union but just an | |
| I in our beliefs | |
| There' s a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone' s native | |
| The only proof that | |
| I have that we shot and killed this horse | |
| Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse | |
| The only proof that | |
| I have that we shot and killed this horse | |
| And a bleeding heart | |
| When l' m in this state of reflection and you hand me whips | |
| And two by fours, | |
| I could never bring them down, bring them down | |
| Bring them down and beat the same horse as before | |
| Bring them down, as before | |
| I' d rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds | |
| Until a garden with our bullet laden morals will be found | |
| I' d rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds | |
| Until a garden with our bullet laden morals will be found, will be found |
| zuò qǔ : Protest The Hero | |
| Don' t ever ask us to define our morals | |
| Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak | |
| Some of us are all of us halfselves that love whole hopes | |
| And harakiri heartbreak | |
| There' s almost nothing worse than never being real | |
| Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear | |
| If I had a gun, l' d pump your ethics full of lead | |
| If I believed in meat, l' d eat a plateful of our dead | |
| There' s merit in destruction when it' s done with your own hands | |
| There' s beauty in construction, resurrection, another chance | |
| There' s a you and | |
| I in union but just an | |
| I in our beliefs | |
| There' s a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone' s native | |
| The only proof that | |
| I have that we shot and killed this horse | |
| Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse | |
| The only proof that | |
| I have that we shot and killed this horse | |
| And a bleeding heart | |
| When l' m in this state of reflection and you hand me whips | |
| And two by fours, | |
| I could never bring them down, bring them down | |
| Bring them down and beat the same horse as before | |
| Bring them down, as before | |
| I' d rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds | |
| Until a garden with our bullet laden morals will be found | |
| I' d rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds | |
| Until a garden with our bullet laden morals will be found, will be found |
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