| Song | Curs in the Weeds - normal |
| Artist | Horse Feathers |
| Album | House With No Home |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Ringle | |
| Lover of things, | |
| won't you agree | |
| how the winter could bring | |
| the darkest spring? | |
| With hell on your face, | |
| dirt on the walls | |
| in the back of the place, | |
| you grew and complained. | |
| Father of three, | |
| won't you believe, | |
| that the ones in between, | |
| the ones that are blamed. | |
| Of fickle faith, | |
| cynics that seethe, | |
| how their children are cursed, | |
| cursed to believe. | |
| It's like marrow without bone. | |
| To live in a house with no home. | |
| Where the son is the darkest seed. | |
| He crawls with the curs in the weeds. | |
| Where had you been son? | |
| Not in the street, not in the yard. | |
| Only once, I'll call off the dogs, if you call off your guard. | |
| Where had you gone? | |
| Where had you been? |
| zuo qu : Ringle | |
| Lover of things, | |
| won' t you agree | |
| how the winter could bring | |
| the darkest spring? | |
| With hell on your face, | |
| dirt on the walls | |
| in the back of the place, | |
| you grew and complained. | |
| Father of three, | |
| won' t you believe, | |
| that the ones in between, | |
| the ones that are blamed. | |
| Of fickle faith, | |
| cynics that seethe, | |
| how their children are cursed, | |
| cursed to believe. | |
| It' s like marrow without bone. | |
| To live in a house with no home. | |
| Where the son is the darkest seed. | |
| He crawls with the curs in the weeds. | |
| Where had you been son? | |
| Not in the street, not in the yard. | |
| Only once, I' ll call off the dogs, if you call off your guard. | |
| Where had you gone? | |
| Where had you been? |
| zuò qǔ : Ringle | |
| Lover of things, | |
| won' t you agree | |
| how the winter could bring | |
| the darkest spring? | |
| With hell on your face, | |
| dirt on the walls | |
| in the back of the place, | |
| you grew and complained. | |
| Father of three, | |
| won' t you believe, | |
| that the ones in between, | |
| the ones that are blamed. | |
| Of fickle faith, | |
| cynics that seethe, | |
| how their children are cursed, | |
| cursed to believe. | |
| It' s like marrow without bone. | |
| To live in a house with no home. | |
| Where the son is the darkest seed. | |
| He crawls with the curs in the weeds. | |
| Where had you been son? | |
| Not in the street, not in the yard. | |
| Only once, I' ll call off the dogs, if you call off your guard. | |
| Where had you gone? | |
| Where had you been? |