X Amount of Words Lyrics
| Song | X Amount of Words |
| Artist | Blue October |
| Album | Ugly Side: An Acoustic Evening With Blue October |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Furstenfeld | |
| Relapse | |
| Prevent trigger intent | |
| Now drown | |
| High strung | |
| Say X amount of words | |
| Your solar, bipolar | |
| Panic disorder | |
| Seems harder and harder and harder | |
| Still you try to control it | |
| You mold, you mold | |
| Yeah you shape to mold | |
| Oh you're bold you're bold | |
| But your shape is bold | |
| You're a symptom superficial | |
| To what they call knowing you | |
| Minus the speed, | |
| Could you imagine the phobia? | |
| Your brain is faulty wiring | |
| the reason for tiring | |
| Keep treating the curse, | |
| Imagine the worst | |
| Systematic, sympathetic | |
| Quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic | |
| Your heart is prosthetic | |
| A plate of quite peculiar | |
| On a dish of my own | |
| A tablespoon of feather | |
| tickle me to the bone | |
| Give me recipes for happy | |
| with the chemicals gone | |
| Drinking freedom from a bottle | |
| to the tune of belong | |
| I'm sick of shaking | |
| never waking | |
| from the hell I achieve | |
| I never knew you till you left me | |
| with the crying disease | |
| Another curing, reassuring | |
| way to buckle the knees | |
| So mistreated, I repeated | |
| Never blessing your sneeze | |
| Now deleted and defeated | |
| I will stand on my own | |
| Yeah your memory that punches me | |
| has broken the bone | |
| Give me recipes for sorry | |
| I'm admitting I'm wrong | |
| Still your memory that punches me | |
| has broken the bone |
| zuo qu : Furstenfeld | |
| Relapse | |
| Prevent trigger intent | |
| Now drown | |
| High strung | |
| Say X amount of words | |
| Your solar, bipolar | |
| Panic disorder | |
| Seems harder and harder and harder | |
| Still you try to control it | |
| You mold, you mold | |
| Yeah you shape to mold | |
| Oh you' re bold you' re bold | |
| But your shape is bold | |
| You' re a symptom superficial | |
| To what they call knowing you | |
| Minus the speed, | |
| Could you imagine the phobia? | |
| Your brain is faulty wiring | |
| the reason for tiring | |
| Keep treating the curse, | |
| Imagine the worst | |
| Systematic, sympathetic | |
| Quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic | |
| Your heart is prosthetic | |
| A plate of quite peculiar | |
| On a dish of my own | |
| A tablespoon of feather | |
| tickle me to the bone | |
| Give me recipes for happy | |
| with the chemicals gone | |
| Drinking freedom from a bottle | |
| to the tune of belong | |
| I' m sick of shaking | |
| never waking | |
| from the hell I achieve | |
| I never knew you till you left me | |
| with the crying disease | |
| Another curing, reassuring | |
| way to buckle the knees | |
| So mistreated, I repeated | |
| Never blessing your sneeze | |
| Now deleted and defeated | |
| I will stand on my own | |
| Yeah your memory that punches me | |
| has broken the bone | |
| Give me recipes for sorry | |
| I' m admitting I' m wrong | |
| Still your memory that punches me | |
| has broken the bone |
| zuò qǔ : Furstenfeld | |
| Relapse | |
| Prevent trigger intent | |
| Now drown | |
| High strung | |
| Say X amount of words | |
| Your solar, bipolar | |
| Panic disorder | |
| Seems harder and harder and harder | |
| Still you try to control it | |
| You mold, you mold | |
| Yeah you shape to mold | |
| Oh you' re bold you' re bold | |
| But your shape is bold | |
| You' re a symptom superficial | |
| To what they call knowing you | |
| Minus the speed, | |
| Could you imagine the phobia? | |
| Your brain is faulty wiring | |
| the reason for tiring | |
| Keep treating the curse, | |
| Imagine the worst | |
| Systematic, sympathetic | |
| Quite pathetic, apologetic, paramedic | |
| Your heart is prosthetic | |
| A plate of quite peculiar | |
| On a dish of my own | |
| A tablespoon of feather | |
| tickle me to the bone | |
| Give me recipes for happy | |
| with the chemicals gone | |
| Drinking freedom from a bottle | |
| to the tune of belong | |
| I' m sick of shaking | |
| never waking | |
| from the hell I achieve | |
| I never knew you till you left me | |
| with the crying disease | |
| Another curing, reassuring | |
| way to buckle the knees | |
| So mistreated, I repeated | |
| Never blessing your sneeze | |
| Now deleted and defeated | |
| I will stand on my own | |
| Yeah your memory that punches me | |
| has broken the bone | |
| Give me recipes for sorry | |
| I' m admitting I' m wrong | |
| Still your memory that punches me | |
| has broken the bone |
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