| Song | Variations on the Grand National Championships |
| Artist | Hallelujah the Hills |
| Album | Colonial Drones |
| 作曲 : Walsh | |
| I can see you in my telescope | |
| that punctures time like a needle through paper | |
| you're washing dishes during the civil war | |
| as your husband's stabbing your dad | |
| they never met so it's not even realized | |
| how heavy truly the moment | |
| and in the present in a shopping line | |
| my sugar refuses to scan | |
| oh, the time has come | |
| to crash right through the gates of ivory towers | |
| we must find a way | |
| to topple all the thrones | |
| you were right this light it comes from the night | |
| and takes the shame out of being so latent | |
| everything that's been scheduled for you | |
| you call random and sleep through your days | |
| so you invest in every angle and hinge | |
| hoping there's something to swing from or hide in | |
| but now there's nothing but a precipice | |
| and an old song to sing through the night | |
| oh, the time has come | |
| to crash right through the gates of ivory towers | |
| we must find a way | |
| to topple all the thrones | |
| oh the time has come! | |
| oh the time has come! | |
| can we quake these tectonic plates? | |
| can it shake the street that you live on? | |
| portraits tumble to the hardwood floor | |
| leaving dents and impressions of me | |
| I fall asleep on an empty highway | |
| as my truck crashes into the woodlands | |
| my feet are caught but I reach the flare gun | |
| shoot it off but it's the 4th of July |
| zuò qǔ : Walsh | |
| I can see you in my telescope | |
| that punctures time like a needle through paper | |
| you' re washing dishes during the civil war | |
| as your husband' s stabbing your dad | |
| they never met so it' s not even realized | |
| how heavy truly the moment | |
| and in the present in a shopping line | |
| my sugar refuses to scan | |
| oh, the time has come | |
| to crash right through the gates of ivory towers | |
| we must find a way | |
| to topple all the thrones | |
| you were right this light it comes from the night | |
| and takes the shame out of being so latent | |
| everything that' s been scheduled for you | |
| you call random and sleep through your days | |
| so you invest in every angle and hinge | |
| hoping there' s something to swing from or hide in | |
| but now there' s nothing but a precipice | |
| and an old song to sing through the night | |
| oh, the time has come | |
| to crash right through the gates of ivory towers | |
| we must find a way | |
| to topple all the thrones | |
| oh the time has come! | |
| oh the time has come! | |
| can we quake these tectonic plates? | |
| can it shake the street that you live on? | |
| portraits tumble to the hardwood floor | |
| leaving dents and impressions of me | |
| I fall asleep on an empty highway | |
| as my truck crashes into the woodlands | |
| my feet are caught but I reach the flare gun | |
| shoot it off but it' s the 4th of July |