Turncoat Revolution Lyrics
| Song | Turncoat Revolution |
| Artist | Hot Cross |
| Album | Risk Revival |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Boland, Drudy, Smith, Werner | |
| Behold the youth, come down the pipe | |
| All worked up, all spent up, all faces turned up | |
| Overdone | |
| I never met a traitor I didn't like | |
| Never criticized a turncoat written off in spite | |
| Caught up on robbing Peter to pay Paul | |
| Obsessively stabbing Achilles to kill it all | |
| Jump on board and feel what I've confessed | |
| The small bus is leaving and will never be blessed | |
| Pissed up the same flagpole once too many times | |
| Blood on my shoes makes light of death and we mock the crime | |
| Behold the youth. Sad again | |
| Hair all fucked, with black eyes but untouched | |
| Behold my own part. Unaware of where we start | |
| But you've given up on giving back, and frankly I miss your heart | |
| But I could care less, I behold their resources | |
| They get so far, and cause so much stress | |
| Behold our turncoat revolution that's doomed | |
| Step one, a step undone | |
| Behold our lifelong manifesto of failure assumed |
| zuo qu : Boland, Drudy, Smith, Werner | |
| Behold the youth, come down the pipe | |
| All worked up, all spent up, all faces turned up | |
| Overdone | |
| I never met a traitor I didn' t like | |
| Never criticized a turncoat written off in spite | |
| Caught up on robbing Peter to pay Paul | |
| Obsessively stabbing Achilles to kill it all | |
| Jump on board and feel what I' ve confessed | |
| The small bus is leaving and will never be blessed | |
| Pissed up the same flagpole once too many times | |
| Blood on my shoes makes light of death and we mock the crime | |
| Behold the youth. Sad again | |
| Hair all fucked, with black eyes but untouched | |
| Behold my own part. Unaware of where we start | |
| But you' ve given up on giving back, and frankly I miss your heart | |
| But I could care less, I behold their resources | |
| They get so far, and cause so much stress | |
| Behold our turncoat revolution that' s doomed | |
| Step one, a step undone | |
| Behold our lifelong manifesto of failure assumed |
| zuò qǔ : Boland, Drudy, Smith, Werner | |
| Behold the youth, come down the pipe | |
| All worked up, all spent up, all faces turned up | |
| Overdone | |
| I never met a traitor I didn' t like | |
| Never criticized a turncoat written off in spite | |
| Caught up on robbing Peter to pay Paul | |
| Obsessively stabbing Achilles to kill it all | |
| Jump on board and feel what I' ve confessed | |
| The small bus is leaving and will never be blessed | |
| Pissed up the same flagpole once too many times | |
| Blood on my shoes makes light of death and we mock the crime | |
| Behold the youth. Sad again | |
| Hair all fucked, with black eyes but untouched | |
| Behold my own part. Unaware of where we start | |
| But you' ve given up on giving back, and frankly I miss your heart | |
| But I could care less, I behold their resources | |
| They get so far, and cause so much stress | |
| Behold our turncoat revolution that' s doomed | |
| Step one, a step undone | |
| Behold our lifelong manifesto of failure assumed |
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