Box Of Limes Lyrics
| Song | Box Of Limes |
| Artist | Curt Kirkwood |
| Album | Snow |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Kirkwood | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| Come all these moonbeams, burning down my door | |
| These dirty rhymes are on a roll | |
| That's not what it seems | |
| Crawling across your floor | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This toothpick, Baby, is burning wax | |
| Pigs on a postcard are playing jacks | |
| They play for nothing, no looking back | |
| That's not what it seems | |
| Crawling through the cracks | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| Come all these moonbeams, further to be sold | |
| These dirty rhymes are chewing glass | |
| That's not what it seems | |
| Coming over the pass | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| This box of limes | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| These dirty rhymes are chewing glass | |
| That's not what it seems | |
| Coming over the pass |
| zuo ci : Kirkwood | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| Come all these moonbeams, burning down my door | |
| These dirty rhymes are on a roll | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Crawling across your floor | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This toothpick, Baby, is burning wax | |
| Pigs on a postcard are playing jacks | |
| They play for nothing, no looking back | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Crawling through the cracks | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| Come all these moonbeams, further to be sold | |
| These dirty rhymes are chewing glass | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Coming over the pass | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| This box of limes | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| These dirty rhymes are chewing glass | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Coming over the pass |
| zuò cí : Kirkwood | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| Come all these moonbeams, burning down my door | |
| These dirty rhymes are on a roll | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Crawling across your floor | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This toothpick, Baby, is burning wax | |
| Pigs on a postcard are playing jacks | |
| They play for nothing, no looking back | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Crawling through the cracks | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| Come all these moonbeams, further to be sold | |
| These dirty rhymes are chewing glass | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Coming over the pass | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| Fading stars in the purple orange night | |
| Growing dreams of roses blue and white | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| This box of limes | |
| This box of limes is burning cold | |
| These dirty rhymes are chewing glass | |
| That' s not what it seems | |
| Coming over the pass |
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