Getting the Done Job

Getting the Done Job Lyrics

Song Getting the Done Job
Artist The Books
Album Thought for Food
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作曲 : De Jong, Zammuto
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
zuo qu : De Jong, Zammuto
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
zuò qǔ : De Jong, Zammuto
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Nose to the wall
I follow paths of tiny fissures
Falling trapeze, the Japanese
Are watching the garden growing on an island
Surround the mound and run your fingers
Through the filings
Ear to the ground
I sift through piles of fallen letters
Copying keys, roll down my sleeves
A part of the hanging garden of the city
Downtown the sounds of single people
Doing nothing
Getting the Done Job Lyrics
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