From 24C Lyrics
| Song | From 24C |
| Artist | The Matches |
| Album | A Band In Hope |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
| Digits dial, digits dial...tone, monotone | |
| Has she been feigning sleeping? | |
| Framing sheep and all alone? | |
| Downslide on the sidewalk, | |
| I'm a distant ring | |
| Out of body, out of body, | |
| Pick me up, oh answer me | |
| I just hurried over | |
| Worried sick you might be sick | |
| Gates are courting airplanes, | |
| and clocks divorcing ticks | |
| Before I left, thought I'd see you | |
| At the show, you didn't show | |
| Didn't message, didn't call | |
| You didn't know, oh didn't you know? | |
| I'm a liar too | |
| Uh huh, that's why I think I understand you | |
| Someone from your building holds for me a door | |
| I'm in your lobby, your elevator | |
| I'm on your floor, the second floor | |
| I can hear you now | |
| With my ear pressed to the paint | |
| You're playing that cassette tape | |
| That you took from me to take to Iowa | |
| And that was near three years ago | |
| Now I'm back up in that moment | |
| Playing that yardsale Casio | |
| I sang to you from a red room | |
| (Together we'll grey, grey, grey) | |
| Does he sing to you as well? | |
| Much better, most would say | |
| I hear him laughing | |
| But I prefer this to the silence | |
| When your lips are sealed against his | |
| Or he fills your thighs with kisses | |
| Or just for instance | |
| He's clawing your fat, | |
| Pushing your breaths into the mattress | |
| You'll love a good many men, mmhmm | |
| And loving me ain't gonna stop all of them | |
| Like Adam we are flawed | |
| In the image of our gods | |
| Of our fathers, who never bothered | |
| To consider they were not the only ones | |
| (Faith, ohhh...) | |
| Faith oh faith, is a way to believe lies that we need | |
| Then to be faithful is to be truthless | |
| But that's more than I need to say | |
| Oh just don't run off and get married | |
| And I'll surely be okay | |
| 'Cause I love you | |
| They'll never cure that muse | |
| Gotta go now | |
| Pack my suitcase | |
| Glad that you're okay, | |
| And I love you, happy birthday, | |
| See you in sixteen days. |
| zuo qu : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
| Digits dial, digits dial... tone, monotone | |
| Has she been feigning sleeping? | |
| Framing sheep and all alone? | |
| Downslide on the sidewalk, | |
| I' m a distant ring | |
| Out of body, out of body, | |
| Pick me up, oh answer me | |
| I just hurried over | |
| Worried sick you might be sick | |
| Gates are courting airplanes, | |
| and clocks divorcing ticks | |
| Before I left, thought I' d see you | |
| At the show, you didn' t show | |
| Didn' t message, didn' t call | |
| You didn' t know, oh didn' t you know? | |
| I' m a liar too | |
| Uh huh, that' s why I think I understand you | |
| Someone from your building holds for me a door | |
| I' m in your lobby, your elevator | |
| I' m on your floor, the second floor | |
| I can hear you now | |
| With my ear pressed to the paint | |
| You' re playing that cassette tape | |
| That you took from me to take to Iowa | |
| And that was near three years ago | |
| Now I' m back up in that moment | |
| Playing that yardsale Casio | |
| I sang to you from a red room | |
| Together we' ll grey, grey, grey | |
| Does he sing to you as well? | |
| Much better, most would say | |
| I hear him laughing | |
| But I prefer this to the silence | |
| When your lips are sealed against his | |
| Or he fills your thighs with kisses | |
| Or just for instance | |
| He' s clawing your fat, | |
| Pushing your breaths into the mattress | |
| You' ll love a good many men, mmhmm | |
| And loving me ain' t gonna stop all of them | |
| Like Adam we are flawed | |
| In the image of our gods | |
| Of our fathers, who never bothered | |
| To consider they were not the only ones | |
| Faith, ohhh... | |
| Faith oh faith, is a way to believe lies that we need | |
| Then to be faithful is to be truthless | |
| But that' s more than I need to say | |
| Oh just don' t run off and get married | |
| And I' ll surely be okay | |
| ' Cause I love you | |
| They' ll never cure that muse | |
| Gotta go now | |
| Pack my suitcase | |
| Glad that you' re okay, | |
| And I love you, happy birthday, | |
| See you in sixteen days. |
| zuò qǔ : Harris, Hurwitz, Matches | |
| Digits dial, digits dial... tone, monotone | |
| Has she been feigning sleeping? | |
| Framing sheep and all alone? | |
| Downslide on the sidewalk, | |
| I' m a distant ring | |
| Out of body, out of body, | |
| Pick me up, oh answer me | |
| I just hurried over | |
| Worried sick you might be sick | |
| Gates are courting airplanes, | |
| and clocks divorcing ticks | |
| Before I left, thought I' d see you | |
| At the show, you didn' t show | |
| Didn' t message, didn' t call | |
| You didn' t know, oh didn' t you know? | |
| I' m a liar too | |
| Uh huh, that' s why I think I understand you | |
| Someone from your building holds for me a door | |
| I' m in your lobby, your elevator | |
| I' m on your floor, the second floor | |
| I can hear you now | |
| With my ear pressed to the paint | |
| You' re playing that cassette tape | |
| That you took from me to take to Iowa | |
| And that was near three years ago | |
| Now I' m back up in that moment | |
| Playing that yardsale Casio | |
| I sang to you from a red room | |
| Together we' ll grey, grey, grey | |
| Does he sing to you as well? | |
| Much better, most would say | |
| I hear him laughing | |
| But I prefer this to the silence | |
| When your lips are sealed against his | |
| Or he fills your thighs with kisses | |
| Or just for instance | |
| He' s clawing your fat, | |
| Pushing your breaths into the mattress | |
| You' ll love a good many men, mmhmm | |
| And loving me ain' t gonna stop all of them | |
| Like Adam we are flawed | |
| In the image of our gods | |
| Of our fathers, who never bothered | |
| To consider they were not the only ones | |
| Faith, ohhh... | |
| Faith oh faith, is a way to believe lies that we need | |
| Then to be faithful is to be truthless | |
| But that' s more than I need to say | |
| Oh just don' t run off and get married | |
| And I' ll surely be okay | |
| ' Cause I love you | |
| They' ll never cure that muse | |
| Gotta go now | |
| Pack my suitcase | |
| Glad that you' re okay, | |
| And I love you, happy birthday, | |
| See you in sixteen days. |
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