Song | Hole For A Soul |
Artist | Terrorvision |
Album | Formaldehyde/How To Make Friends And Influence People/Regular Urban Survivors |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Terrorvision | |
holy shamoly said the priest to the girl | |
as he wrapped his arms around her | |
and his guts became her world | |
she said i can't take any more | |
no i can't take any more | |
and she could taste the christ | |
breath the church | |
smell the crucifixion | |
of another fallen angel hooked up on false religion | |
she's gotta hole for a soul | |
she's gotta sad sad tale to tell | |
she's gotta hole for a soul | |
of being twisted in a living hell | |
crikey moses he said with bottle in his hand | |
fingers worn thin down to the bone | |
from working on the promised land | |
fingers worn thin tattered and torn from scratching | |
all this blood and sand | |
said i can't take any more | |
no i can't take any more | |
he had a loving wife | |
doting child | |
an englishman's castle for his home | |
every mile stood this broken man | |
and every two stood this broken man's dream | |
he's gotta hole for a soul | |
he's gotta sad sad tale to tell | |
he's gotta hole for a soul | |
of being twisted in a living hell |
zuo qu : Terrorvision | |
holy shamoly said the priest to the girl | |
as he wrapped his arms around her | |
and his guts became her world | |
she said i can' t take any more | |
no i can' t take any more | |
and she could taste the christ | |
breath the church | |
smell the crucifixion | |
of another fallen angel hooked up on false religion | |
she' s gotta hole for a soul | |
she' s gotta sad sad tale to tell | |
she' s gotta hole for a soul | |
of being twisted in a living hell | |
crikey moses he said with bottle in his hand | |
fingers worn thin down to the bone | |
from working on the promised land | |
fingers worn thin tattered and torn from scratching | |
all this blood and sand | |
said i can' t take any more | |
no i can' t take any more | |
he had a loving wife | |
doting child | |
an englishman' s castle for his home | |
every mile stood this broken man | |
and every two stood this broken man' s dream | |
he' s gotta hole for a soul | |
he' s gotta sad sad tale to tell | |
he' s gotta hole for a soul | |
of being twisted in a living hell |
zuò qǔ : Terrorvision | |
holy shamoly said the priest to the girl | |
as he wrapped his arms around her | |
and his guts became her world | |
she said i can' t take any more | |
no i can' t take any more | |
and she could taste the christ | |
breath the church | |
smell the crucifixion | |
of another fallen angel hooked up on false religion | |
she' s gotta hole for a soul | |
she' s gotta sad sad tale to tell | |
she' s gotta hole for a soul | |
of being twisted in a living hell | |
crikey moses he said with bottle in his hand | |
fingers worn thin down to the bone | |
from working on the promised land | |
fingers worn thin tattered and torn from scratching | |
all this blood and sand | |
said i can' t take any more | |
no i can' t take any more | |
he had a loving wife | |
doting child | |
an englishman' s castle for his home | |
every mile stood this broken man | |
and every two stood this broken man' s dream | |
he' s gotta hole for a soul | |
he' s gotta sad sad tale to tell | |
he' s gotta hole for a soul | |
of being twisted in a living hell |