Red Is The Color Lyrics
| Song | Red Is The Color |
| Artist | Steve Earle |
| Album | Washington Square Serenade |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Earle | |
| North wind blowing like a hurricane house | |
| Old man leaning like he's pulling a plow | |
| Neck bowed, bending like a willow bough | |
| Red sky, color of the end of time | |
| Bleeds dry running down the center line | |
| Wise guy pretends he doesn't see the signs | |
| Bad news everybody talking about | |
| A short fuse a half an inch from burning out | |
| All used up beyond a reasonable doubt | |
| Make way for his majesty, the prodigal king | |
| Still taste the poison when you're kissing the ring | |
| Don't say he never gave you anything | |
| Deep breath, the calm before the storm begins | |
| Cold sweat, pretend that you ain’t listening | |
| Don't bet on getting by with that again | |
| Short ride from here to where the beast resides | |
| Fine line that separates the shadows inside | |
| Make mine a double shot of cyanide |
| zuo ci : Earle | |
| North wind blowing like a hurricane house | |
| Old man leaning like he' s pulling a plow | |
| Neck bowed, bending like a willow bough | |
| Red sky, color of the end of time | |
| Bleeds dry running down the center line | |
| Wise guy pretends he doesn' t see the signs | |
| Bad news everybody talking about | |
| A short fuse a half an inch from burning out | |
| All used up beyond a reasonable doubt | |
| Make way for his majesty, the prodigal king | |
| Still taste the poison when you' re kissing the ring | |
| Don' t say he never gave you anything | |
| Deep breath, the calm before the storm begins | |
| Cold sweat, pretend that you ain' t listening | |
| Don' t bet on getting by with that again | |
| Short ride from here to where the beast resides | |
| Fine line that separates the shadows inside | |
| Make mine a double shot of cyanide |
| zuò cí : Earle | |
| North wind blowing like a hurricane house | |
| Old man leaning like he' s pulling a plow | |
| Neck bowed, bending like a willow bough | |
| Red sky, color of the end of time | |
| Bleeds dry running down the center line | |
| Wise guy pretends he doesn' t see the signs | |
| Bad news everybody talking about | |
| A short fuse a half an inch from burning out | |
| All used up beyond a reasonable doubt | |
| Make way for his majesty, the prodigal king | |
| Still taste the poison when you' re kissing the ring | |
| Don' t say he never gave you anything | |
| Deep breath, the calm before the storm begins | |
| Cold sweat, pretend that you ain' t listening | |
| Don' t bet on getting by with that again | |
| Short ride from here to where the beast resides | |
| Fine line that separates the shadows inside | |
| Make mine a double shot of cyanide |
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