Song | Word to Spread - Recorded live in the locations |
Artist | Tom Thumb |
Album | 最新热歌慢摇109 |
well i can’t speak their language but i can order their ales | |
so I can skip those borders if all else fails | |
strength in my passport Samsonite Samson | |
i’ll find my Delilah and i’ma fill a stein (philistine) glass with reckless abandon | |
and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. | |
and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. | |
well i’ve been crushed by the cabin pressure | |
placed on a pedestal and praised by strangers | |
and when i think that i’m king of the hill | |
i still look small to the mountain ranges | |
from the river to the sea, from the city to the stages | |
driven by humility and my pen upon these pages | |
cause i grew up on the train lines | |
where i learned to duck and weave | |
while the city slept them sleepers kept | |
a certain hold over me | |
but now i’ve flown my coop but i know where i was founded | |
so no matter how high that i fly them sleepers keep me grounded. | |
and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head.and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head.and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. |
well i can' t speak their language but i can order their ales | |
so I can skip those borders if all else fails | |
strength in my passport Samsonite Samson | |
i' ll find my Delilah and i' ma fill a stein philistine glass with reckless abandon | |
and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. | |
and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. | |
well i' ve been crushed by the cabin pressure | |
placed on a pedestal and praised by strangers | |
and when i think that i' m king of the hill | |
i still look small to the mountain ranges | |
from the river to the sea, from the city to the stages | |
driven by humility and my pen upon these pages | |
cause i grew up on the train lines | |
where i learned to duck and weave | |
while the city slept them sleepers kept | |
a certain hold over me | |
but now i' ve flown my coop but i know where i was founded | |
so no matter how high that i fly them sleepers keep me grounded. | |
and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. and i aint got a place round here | |
and no one know my face round here | |
i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
a place to rest my head. |