| Song | Agony In Her Body |
| Artist | Sage Francis |
| Album | A Healthy Distrust |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Frances | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. | |
| Baby you don't know where my mind has been | |
| Fell off the bike more than twice but it's time to ride again | |
| This time | |
| I've learned from my past falls | |
| Old wounds might reopen soon | |
| Burn them in alcohol | |
| I heard that last call (what?) it was a close one | |
| Roadrunners no which direction to go when snow comes | |
| Then we're costal | |
| Extra traction on radial tires | |
| Having sex in the back wrapped in radio wires | |
| Self abusive, stuck in a bad place | |
| Head full of bruises and scratched face | |
| I bled porously | |
| Inserting my juices so you can taste me | |
| Put my neck in a noose and swung to safety | |
| Found a land mine planted in the sole of my foot | |
| I can't find sanctum in the holes | |
| I've input | |
| I keep digging covered in earth | |
| I undress they run tests | |
| I leave the dirt to the experts | |
| White coats and shiny objects | |
| I jump their lifeboat science project | |
| We got a floater | |
| Guinea pig overboard | |
| Stone sober hillbilly kid with open sores | |
| Ripped vocal cord | |
| Tearing them out | |
| A mutant manifesto that you'll probably never hear about | |
| Weirded out about my whereabouts | |
| Ears pierced my mouth a bearded medicine man who wears a pouch | |
| Keeps digging | |
| And I'm swimming up hill | |
| I'm fighting a tide of mudslide and blood spilled | |
| Until I've got a shirt off my back | |
| And a girl on attack on top with a curled lip | |
| The world map is our bed sheet | |
| We share geography now | |
| I explore virgin territory | |
| Squeaky seats acting as a mating call | |
| Nothing on my but her and didn't feel naked at all | |
| Ever feel the need to keep it so real you feed yourself into her hunger and don't care if she bleeds | |
| Asking all these questions aint highly recommended | |
| They'll eventually get answered if you put time in the friendship | |
| That is if what you're doing is helping and it's not like you know until you uh… | |
| Reach the ending | |
| She wanted my agony agony agony agony in her body | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. | |
| I need more holes to breath from | |
| She was crazy | |
| Went under the knife | |
| I contemplated freedom | |
| Put it all out on the operating table | |
| Touching on some rubber ducks | |
| I played double dutch with some jumper cables | |
| Then out broke like the water it started rushing | |
| All of the sudden there she was gone | |
| I'm the fall guy | |
| She's a sight for sore eyes | |
| I'm in labor all night until a new day is born | |
| Curved globe | |
| Road taste like | |
| Eyes rolled, dice | |
| Earth pulls a 180 when | |
| I look into her snake eyes | |
| I'm not afraid of dying | |
| Pieces of me die all the time | |
| Keep digging (keep digging) | |
| I leave the dirt to the experts who push the boundaries of pleasure till the sex hurts | |
| I hold today with a death grip | |
| And play hard to get with tomorrow so as not to look so ****ing desperate | |
| Face sweaty | |
| Hands unsteady | |
| Blood pressure off the charts | |
| My heart hangs heavy | |
| Untreated wounds though repeated moods are seeds who develop in your needy womb | |
| Your feeble ill cocoon | |
| I don't grieve for many people | |
| And I don't mourn the pieces killed in you | |
| My injection must have been lethal | |
| Pick up the shovel love; you've got some digging to do | |
| Agony agony agony agony | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. |
| zuo qu : Frances | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. | |
| Baby you don' t know where my mind has been | |
| Fell off the bike more than twice but it' s time to ride again | |
| This time | |
| I' ve learned from my past falls | |
| Old wounds might reopen soon | |
| Burn them in alcohol | |
| I heard that last call what? it was a close one | |
| Roadrunners no which direction to go when snow comes | |
| Then we' re costal | |
| Extra traction on radial tires | |
| Having sex in the back wrapped in radio wires | |
| Self abusive, stuck in a bad place | |
| Head full of bruises and scratched face | |
| I bled porously | |
| Inserting my juices so you can taste me | |
| Put my neck in a noose and swung to safety | |
| Found a land mine planted in the sole of my foot | |
| I can' t find sanctum in the holes | |
| I' ve input | |
| I keep digging covered in earth | |
| I undress they run tests | |
| I leave the dirt to the experts | |
| White coats and shiny objects | |
| I jump their lifeboat science project | |
| We got a floater | |
| Guinea pig overboard | |
| Stone sober hillbilly kid with open sores | |
| Ripped vocal cord | |
| Tearing them out | |
| A mutant manifesto that you' ll probably never hear about | |
| Weirded out about my whereabouts | |
| Ears pierced my mouth a bearded medicine man who wears a pouch | |
| Keeps digging | |
| And I' m swimming up hill | |
| I' m fighting a tide of mudslide and blood spilled | |
| Until I' ve got a shirt off my back | |
| And a girl on attack on top with a curled lip | |
| The world map is our bed sheet | |
| We share geography now | |
| I explore virgin territory | |
| Squeaky seats acting as a mating call | |
| Nothing on my but her and didn' t feel naked at all | |
| Ever feel the need to keep it so real you feed yourself into her hunger and don' t care if she bleeds | |
| Asking all these questions aint highly recommended | |
| They' ll eventually get answered if you put time in the friendship | |
| That is if what you' re doing is helping and it' s not like you know until you uh | |
| Reach the ending | |
| She wanted my agony agony agony agony in her body | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. | |
| I need more holes to breath from | |
| She was crazy | |
| Went under the knife | |
| I contemplated freedom | |
| Put it all out on the operating table | |
| Touching on some rubber ducks | |
| I played double dutch with some jumper cables | |
| Then out broke like the water it started rushing | |
| All of the sudden there she was gone | |
| I' m the fall guy | |
| She' s a sight for sore eyes | |
| I' m in labor all night until a new day is born | |
| Curved globe | |
| Road taste like | |
| Eyes rolled, dice | |
| Earth pulls a 180 when | |
| I look into her snake eyes | |
| I' m not afraid of dying | |
| Pieces of me die all the time | |
| Keep digging keep digging | |
| I leave the dirt to the experts who push the boundaries of pleasure till the sex hurts | |
| I hold today with a death grip | |
| And play hard to get with tomorrow so as not to look so ing desperate | |
| Face sweaty | |
| Hands unsteady | |
| Blood pressure off the charts | |
| My heart hangs heavy | |
| Untreated wounds though repeated moods are seeds who develop in your needy womb | |
| Your feeble ill cocoon | |
| I don' t grieve for many people | |
| And I don' t mourn the pieces killed in you | |
| My injection must have been lethal | |
| Pick up the shovel love you' ve got some digging to do | |
| Agony agony agony agony | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. |
| zuò qǔ : Frances | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. | |
| Baby you don' t know where my mind has been | |
| Fell off the bike more than twice but it' s time to ride again | |
| This time | |
| I' ve learned from my past falls | |
| Old wounds might reopen soon | |
| Burn them in alcohol | |
| I heard that last call what? it was a close one | |
| Roadrunners no which direction to go when snow comes | |
| Then we' re costal | |
| Extra traction on radial tires | |
| Having sex in the back wrapped in radio wires | |
| Self abusive, stuck in a bad place | |
| Head full of bruises and scratched face | |
| I bled porously | |
| Inserting my juices so you can taste me | |
| Put my neck in a noose and swung to safety | |
| Found a land mine planted in the sole of my foot | |
| I can' t find sanctum in the holes | |
| I' ve input | |
| I keep digging covered in earth | |
| I undress they run tests | |
| I leave the dirt to the experts | |
| White coats and shiny objects | |
| I jump their lifeboat science project | |
| We got a floater | |
| Guinea pig overboard | |
| Stone sober hillbilly kid with open sores | |
| Ripped vocal cord | |
| Tearing them out | |
| A mutant manifesto that you' ll probably never hear about | |
| Weirded out about my whereabouts | |
| Ears pierced my mouth a bearded medicine man who wears a pouch | |
| Keeps digging | |
| And I' m swimming up hill | |
| I' m fighting a tide of mudslide and blood spilled | |
| Until I' ve got a shirt off my back | |
| And a girl on attack on top with a curled lip | |
| The world map is our bed sheet | |
| We share geography now | |
| I explore virgin territory | |
| Squeaky seats acting as a mating call | |
| Nothing on my but her and didn' t feel naked at all | |
| Ever feel the need to keep it so real you feed yourself into her hunger and don' t care if she bleeds | |
| Asking all these questions aint highly recommended | |
| They' ll eventually get answered if you put time in the friendship | |
| That is if what you' re doing is helping and it' s not like you know until you uh | |
| Reach the ending | |
| She wanted my agony agony agony agony in her body | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. | |
| I need more holes to breath from | |
| She was crazy | |
| Went under the knife | |
| I contemplated freedom | |
| Put it all out on the operating table | |
| Touching on some rubber ducks | |
| I played double dutch with some jumper cables | |
| Then out broke like the water it started rushing | |
| All of the sudden there she was gone | |
| I' m the fall guy | |
| She' s a sight for sore eyes | |
| I' m in labor all night until a new day is born | |
| Curved globe | |
| Road taste like | |
| Eyes rolled, dice | |
| Earth pulls a 180 when | |
| I look into her snake eyes | |
| I' m not afraid of dying | |
| Pieces of me die all the time | |
| Keep digging keep digging | |
| I leave the dirt to the experts who push the boundaries of pleasure till the sex hurts | |
| I hold today with a death grip | |
| And play hard to get with tomorrow so as not to look so ing desperate | |
| Face sweaty | |
| Hands unsteady | |
| Blood pressure off the charts | |
| My heart hangs heavy | |
| Untreated wounds though repeated moods are seeds who develop in your needy womb | |
| Your feeble ill cocoon | |
| I don' t grieve for many people | |
| And I don' t mourn the pieces killed in you | |
| My injection must have been lethal | |
| Pick up the shovel love you' ve got some digging to do | |
| Agony agony agony agony | |
| Day one, I played with her blood | |
| Day two, left her face bruised and we called it making love | |
| Day three, her blood played with me | |
| Dirty talk caught me off guard | |
| Had the nerve to ask me if | |
| I thought she was crazy. |