| Song | Asleep In The Chapel |
| Artist | Thursday |
| Album | War All The Time |
| 作词 : Rickly, Thursday | |
| Three chalk outlines sleep in the dirty street | |
| And in our beds, under the sheets | |
| They're the halo of guilt hanging around your neck | |
| Next to the rosary you count falling asleep, and we're praying | |
| These are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| Since we can't compete with martyred saints | |
| We'll douse ourselves in gasoline | |
| And hang our bodies from the lampposts | |
| So that our shadows turn into bright lights | |
| White lights, white heat | |
| We'll make as we're blacking out in the center lane | |
| We swerve to the beat, spill all the ink, no revisions | |
| Do you hear the church bells ringing? | |
| Wake up, wake up in an outline and try to speak | |
| With the shattered voice of the lives we lead | |
| Have we slept too long | |
| Between the bullet holes in a stained glass window state? | |
| And we're praying | |
| These are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| When we repent and we're praying | |
| We fall on the page, read in the margins | |
| We are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| Someday we'll be complete like modern saints | |
| Baptize our kids in gasoline | |
| And hang our doubts up in cathedrals | |
| So that they turn to faith in the colored sun | |
| Red rain, red rain | |
| We'll make as we're blacking out in the center lane | |
| We swerve to the beat, spill all the ink, no revisions | |
| Do you hear the church bells ringing? | |
| They ring for you | |
| We woke up this morning to a sky with no air in it | |
| And all the street's are filled with a thousand burning crosses | |
| And what we thought was the sunrise was just passing headlights | |
| Still the choir girls sing"Oh Lord, can You save us, save us?"' | |
| Oh Lord, sing hallelujah'' | |
| Oh Lord, can | |
| You save us, save us?'' | |
| Oh, Lord, sing hallelujah' | |
| They are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| We're falling asleep with open eyes | |
| Falling asleep inside the chapel | |
| Falling asleep in chalk outlines | |
| Falling asleep as the headlights pass us by |
| zuò cí : Rickly, Thursday | |
| Three chalk outlines sleep in the dirty street | |
| And in our beds, under the sheets | |
| They' re the halo of guilt hanging around your neck | |
| Next to the rosary you count falling asleep, and we' re praying | |
| These are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| Since we can' t compete with martyred saints | |
| We' ll douse ourselves in gasoline | |
| And hang our bodies from the lampposts | |
| So that our shadows turn into bright lights | |
| White lights, white heat | |
| We' ll make as we' re blacking out in the center lane | |
| We swerve to the beat, spill all the ink, no revisions | |
| Do you hear the church bells ringing? | |
| Wake up, wake up in an outline and try to speak | |
| With the shattered voice of the lives we lead | |
| Have we slept too long | |
| Between the bullet holes in a stained glass window state? | |
| And we' re praying | |
| These are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| When we repent and we' re praying | |
| We fall on the page, read in the margins | |
| We are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| Someday we' ll be complete like modern saints | |
| Baptize our kids in gasoline | |
| And hang our doubts up in cathedrals | |
| So that they turn to faith in the colored sun | |
| Red rain, red rain | |
| We' ll make as we' re blacking out in the center lane | |
| We swerve to the beat, spill all the ink, no revisions | |
| Do you hear the church bells ringing? | |
| They ring for you | |
| We woke up this morning to a sky with no air in it | |
| And all the street' s are filled with a thousand burning crosses | |
| And what we thought was the sunrise was just passing headlights | |
| Still the choir girls sing" Oh Lord, can You save us, save us?"' | |
| Oh Lord, sing hallelujah'' | |
| Oh Lord, can | |
| You save us, save us?'' | |
| Oh, Lord, sing hallelujah' | |
| They are the symptoms of letting go all our hope | |
| We' re falling asleep with open eyes | |
| Falling asleep inside the chapel | |
| Falling asleep in chalk outlines | |
| Falling asleep as the headlights pass us by |