| Song | Boiled Frogs |
| Artist | Alexisonfire |
| Album | Crisis |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Alexisonfire | |
| A man sits at his desk | |
| One year from retirement | |
| And he's up for review | |
| Not quite sure what to do | |
| Each passing year | |
| The workload grows | |
| I'm always wishing | |
| I'm always wishing too late | |
| For things to go my way | |
| It always ends up the same | |
| Count your blessings | |
| I must be missing | |
| I must be missing the point | |
| Your signal fades away | |
| And all I'm left with is noise | |
| Count your blessings on one hand | |
| So wait up, | |
| I'm not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There's so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| Poor little tin man | |
| Still swinging his axe | |
| Even though his joints | |
| Are clogged with rust | |
| My youth is slipping | |
| My youth is slipping away | |
| Safe in monotony | |
| So safe, day after day | |
| Count your blessings | |
| My youth is slipping | |
| My youth is slipping away | |
| Cold wind blows off the lake | |
| And I know for sure that it's too late | |
| Count your blessings on one hand | |
| So wait up, | |
| I'm not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There's so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| Can't help but feel betrayed | |
| Punch the clock every single day | |
| There's no loyalty and no remorse | |
| Youth sold for a pension cheque | |
| And it makes him ****ing sick | |
| He's heating up, he can't say no | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| So wait up, | |
| I'm not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There's so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| So wait up | |
| I'm not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| Between the light and shallow waves | |
| Is where I'm going to die | |
| Wait up for me | |
| Wait up for me | |
| Wait up for me |
| zuo qu : Alexisonfire | |
| A man sits at his desk | |
| One year from retirement | |
| And he' s up for review | |
| Not quite sure what to do | |
| Each passing year | |
| The workload grows | |
| I' m always wishing | |
| I' m always wishing too late | |
| For things to go my way | |
| It always ends up the same | |
| Count your blessings | |
| I must be missing | |
| I must be missing the point | |
| Your signal fades away | |
| And all I' m left with is noise | |
| Count your blessings on one hand | |
| So wait up, | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There' s so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| Poor little tin man | |
| Still swinging his axe | |
| Even though his joints | |
| Are clogged with rust | |
| My youth is slipping | |
| My youth is slipping away | |
| Safe in monotony | |
| So safe, day after day | |
| Count your blessings | |
| My youth is slipping | |
| My youth is slipping away | |
| Cold wind blows off the lake | |
| And I know for sure that it' s too late | |
| Count your blessings on one hand | |
| So wait up, | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There' s so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| Can' t help but feel betrayed | |
| Punch the clock every single day | |
| There' s no loyalty and no remorse | |
| Youth sold for a pension cheque | |
| And it makes him ing sick | |
| He' s heating up, he can' t say no | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| So wait up, | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There' s so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| So wait up | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| Between the light and shallow waves | |
| Is where I' m going to die | |
| Wait up for me | |
| Wait up for me | |
| Wait up for me |
| zuò qǔ : Alexisonfire | |
| A man sits at his desk | |
| One year from retirement | |
| And he' s up for review | |
| Not quite sure what to do | |
| Each passing year | |
| The workload grows | |
| I' m always wishing | |
| I' m always wishing too late | |
| For things to go my way | |
| It always ends up the same | |
| Count your blessings | |
| I must be missing | |
| I must be missing the point | |
| Your signal fades away | |
| And all I' m left with is noise | |
| Count your blessings on one hand | |
| So wait up, | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There' s so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| Poor little tin man | |
| Still swinging his axe | |
| Even though his joints | |
| Are clogged with rust | |
| My youth is slipping | |
| My youth is slipping away | |
| Safe in monotony | |
| So safe, day after day | |
| Count your blessings | |
| My youth is slipping | |
| My youth is slipping away | |
| Cold wind blows off the lake | |
| And I know for sure that it' s too late | |
| Count your blessings on one hand | |
| So wait up, | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There' s so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| Can' t help but feel betrayed | |
| Punch the clock every single day | |
| There' s no loyalty and no remorse | |
| Youth sold for a pension cheque | |
| And it makes him ing sick | |
| He' s heating up, he can' t say no | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| Whoa, oh, oh, oh | |
| So wait up, | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| There' s so much to dream about | |
| There must be more to my life | |
| So wait up | |
| I' m not sleeping | |
| Alone again tonight | |
| Between the light and shallow waves | |
| Is where I' m going to die | |
| Wait up for me | |
| Wait up for me | |
| Wait up for me |