| Song | Seasons Rest |
| Artist | Paper Beat Scissors |
| Album | Paper Beat Scissors |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Tim Crabtree | |
| 作曲 : Tim Crabtree | |
| All out for season’s rest, tired limbs, back, sinking chest | |
| The promise: You won’t fight a harder season | |
| Bleed slower than you’d think, it dries before we meet | |
| You’ll wait for me, this time, this time you’ll wait, this... | |
| The last light hugs the trees and brings a sense of ease | |
| The brakes won’t work for any reason you’d say | |
| Lean on some fireless eyes, they’ll slake the need | |
| you’ve reached the point where you would call another number | |
| But no, don’t | |
| The thorn slips in your side, | |
| but no-one entertained the least thought you would pull it out so quickly | |
| Keep on for all you’re worth, too weak, too cold to work | |
| The sinking light brings all the flies around me | |
| Called out for you, | |
| some tearless face | |
| All light, no space | |
| Don’t move, you fool | |
| Kindness takes the sting from falling where you shouldn’t | |
| Glory reaches ages where the others wouldn’t | |
| So pile them up, pry them out where the orders lead them | |
| The slack yanked tight trips out the lights, now we’re all equal |
| zuo ci : Tim Crabtree | |
| zuo qu : Tim Crabtree | |
| All out for season' s rest, tired limbs, back, sinking chest | |
| The promise: You won' t fight a harder season | |
| Bleed slower than you' d think, it dries before we meet | |
| You' ll wait for me, this time, this time you' ll wait, this... | |
| The last light hugs the trees and brings a sense of ease | |
| The brakes won' t work for any reason you' d say | |
| Lean on some fireless eyes, they' ll slake the need | |
| you' ve reached the point where you would call another number | |
| But no, don' t | |
| The thorn slips in your side, | |
| but noone entertained the least thought you would pull it out so quickly | |
| Keep on for all you' re worth, too weak, too cold to work | |
| The sinking light brings all the flies around me | |
| Called out for you, | |
| some tearless face | |
| All light, no space | |
| Don' t move, you fool | |
| Kindness takes the sting from falling where you shouldn' t | |
| Glory reaches ages where the others wouldn' t | |
| So pile them up, pry them out where the orders lead them | |
| The slack yanked tight trips out the lights, now we' re all equal |
| zuò cí : Tim Crabtree | |
| zuò qǔ : Tim Crabtree | |
| All out for season' s rest, tired limbs, back, sinking chest | |
| The promise: You won' t fight a harder season | |
| Bleed slower than you' d think, it dries before we meet | |
| You' ll wait for me, this time, this time you' ll wait, this... | |
| The last light hugs the trees and brings a sense of ease | |
| The brakes won' t work for any reason you' d say | |
| Lean on some fireless eyes, they' ll slake the need | |
| you' ve reached the point where you would call another number | |
| But no, don' t | |
| The thorn slips in your side, | |
| but noone entertained the least thought you would pull it out so quickly | |
| Keep on for all you' re worth, too weak, too cold to work | |
| The sinking light brings all the flies around me | |
| Called out for you, | |
| some tearless face | |
| All light, no space | |
| Don' t move, you fool | |
| Kindness takes the sting from falling where you shouldn' t | |
| Glory reaches ages where the others wouldn' t | |
| So pile them up, pry them out where the orders lead them | |
| The slack yanked tight trips out the lights, now we' re all equal |