Song | Only Europa Knows |
Artist | Death in June |
Album | Heilige Live |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Jenn, Leviathan, P. | |
Eyes like little dreams | |
Come true | |
We are all | |
Treading water | |
Especially in the new | |
Europa! | |
With all it's satellites | |
We'll see | |
The blossoming of the judas tree | |
And colour infidelity | |
That weeping wound | |
That's hard to see | |
From my circle I'll never stray | |
Or follow clay feet of yesterday | |
To broken circles | |
Well left behind | |
Those foreign hands | |
On foreign times | |
And in their wake | |
I'll disagree | |
To cast my own nativity | |
For misjudged moments | |
Of misjudged times | |
Are for misjudged lives | |
That misjudge mine | |
Our dreams | |
Our dreams they never go | |
To devils above | |
And grey rainbows | |
Spilt seed on stony ground | |
The only sperm | |
That ants surround | |
My hands | |
My wounds | |
And nothing else | |
I smell traitor | |
Time the divider |
zuo qu : Jenn, Leviathan, P. | |
Eyes like little dreams | |
Come true | |
We are all | |
Treading water | |
Especially in the new | |
Europa! | |
With all it' s satellites | |
We' ll see | |
The blossoming of the judas tree | |
And colour infidelity | |
That weeping wound | |
That' s hard to see | |
From my circle I' ll never stray | |
Or follow clay feet of yesterday | |
To broken circles | |
Well left behind | |
Those foreign hands | |
On foreign times | |
And in their wake | |
I' ll disagree | |
To cast my own nativity | |
For misjudged moments | |
Of misjudged times | |
Are for misjudged lives | |
That misjudge mine | |
Our dreams | |
Our dreams they never go | |
To devils above | |
And grey rainbows | |
Spilt seed on stony ground | |
The only sperm | |
That ants surround | |
My hands | |
My wounds | |
And nothing else | |
I smell traitor | |
Time the divider |
zuò qǔ : Jenn, Leviathan, P. | |
Eyes like little dreams | |
Come true | |
We are all | |
Treading water | |
Especially in the new | |
Europa! | |
With all it' s satellites | |
We' ll see | |
The blossoming of the judas tree | |
And colour infidelity | |
That weeping wound | |
That' s hard to see | |
From my circle I' ll never stray | |
Or follow clay feet of yesterday | |
To broken circles | |
Well left behind | |
Those foreign hands | |
On foreign times | |
And in their wake | |
I' ll disagree | |
To cast my own nativity | |
For misjudged moments | |
Of misjudged times | |
Are for misjudged lives | |
That misjudge mine | |
Our dreams | |
Our dreams they never go | |
To devils above | |
And grey rainbows | |
Spilt seed on stony ground | |
The only sperm | |
That ants surround | |
My hands | |
My wounds | |
And nothing else | |
I smell traitor | |
Time the divider |