| Song | Hit of the Search Party |
| Artist | Every Time I Die |
| Album | Hot Damn! |
| 作曲 : Buckley, Every Time I Die | |
| No man abandon his post | |
| A gatecrasher has called us to arms | |
| Take up your torch | |
| I want this ship cleaner than a hospital ward | |
| A radical has polluted our ranks | |
| Slouch into position men, this is a war | |
| Set the traps, we'll have that criminals head | |
| Marched through the streets on a stick | |
| Someone will pay for this | |
| We'll squeeze his goddamn brains out | |
| Sleep with one knife open | |
| You can't out think us, we've been out of thoughts for a while | |
| You can't out think us, we've been out of thoughts for a while | |
| And the warrior with the deadliest weapon is the one without | |
| An instruction manual for his gun | |
| This is a union of dunces | |
| We are the new global menace stalking the land | |
| Gnashing dull teeth, tapping our feet, sighing and humming | |
| And watching this clock | |
| That's what you get, that's what you get | |
| That's what you get | |
| That's what you get for ****ing with us | |
| That's what you get for ****ing with us | |
| When we find you we'll skin you alive | |
| We'll pluck out your eyes | |
| And the canons will roar as we march to the capitol | |
| Dragging your hide | |
| Drooling polished jackboot monsters | |
| Tracking the scent of a sleeping child | |
| Your composure gave you away | |
| Next time it's best to cry havoc | |
| Keep marching, the bridge is ours | |
| They're coming to get me | |
| They're coming to take me away | |
| I'll never make love in this town again | |
| Everyone on the dance floor is doomed | |
| Hit the ground, shut your mouth | |
| The prisoners have laid waste to the pulpit, you're in for it now | |
| Are these helicopters for me? | |
| Have I been appointed to speak? | |
| Then I'm going to hell | |
| And I'm taking the renaissance with me |
| zuò qǔ : Buckley, Every Time I Die | |
| No man abandon his post | |
| A gatecrasher has called us to arms | |
| Take up your torch | |
| I want this ship cleaner than a hospital ward | |
| A radical has polluted our ranks | |
| Slouch into position men, this is a war | |
| Set the traps, we' ll have that criminals head | |
| Marched through the streets on a stick | |
| Someone will pay for this | |
| We' ll squeeze his goddamn brains out | |
| Sleep with one knife open | |
| You can' t out think us, we' ve been out of thoughts for a while | |
| You can' t out think us, we' ve been out of thoughts for a while | |
| And the warrior with the deadliest weapon is the one without | |
| An instruction manual for his gun | |
| This is a union of dunces | |
| We are the new global menace stalking the land | |
| Gnashing dull teeth, tapping our feet, sighing and humming | |
| And watching this clock | |
| That' s what you get, that' s what you get | |
| That' s what you get | |
| That' s what you get for ing with us | |
| That' s what you get for ing with us | |
| When we find you we' ll skin you alive | |
| We' ll pluck out your eyes | |
| And the canons will roar as we march to the capitol | |
| Dragging your hide | |
| Drooling polished jackboot monsters | |
| Tracking the scent of a sleeping child | |
| Your composure gave you away | |
| Next time it' s best to cry havoc | |
| Keep marching, the bridge is ours | |
| They' re coming to get me | |
| They' re coming to take me away | |
| I' ll never make love in this town again | |
| Everyone on the dance floor is doomed | |
| Hit the ground, shut your mouth | |
| The prisoners have laid waste to the pulpit, you' re in for it now | |
| Are these helicopters for me? | |
| Have I been appointed to speak? | |
| Then I' m going to hell | |
| And I' m taking the renaissance with me |