Dial 9-1...and Wait Lyrics
| Song | Dial 9-1...and Wait |
| Artist | The Casting Out |
| Album | Go Crazy! Throw Fireworks |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : The Casting Out | |
| Gimme sweat and adrenaline | |
| Gimme something I can believe | |
| This music's stale, these drinks are weak | |
| Drop down, give it ten | |
| We've been falling asleep | |
| Wake up, watch out | |
| Now we've got ourself deep | |
| The party died, the mood got cheap | |
| Stale lust, fake heart | |
| Like a hole in the head | |
| White washed, white bread | |
| We'd be better of dead | |
| The feeling's gone, the passion left | |
| Today it ain't over till it's over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain't running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| Dial 9-1...and wait | |
| Push, pop, talk, shop | |
| Keep it pretty and sweet | |
| Stand still, no frills | |
| Where the hell have I been | |
| And why's everyone look like a junky | |
| (Sit down, shut up) | |
| Ya look bored, unsure, so clever indeed | |
| No game, so tame, I got places to be | |
| While you're starring at your feet | |
| Today it ain't over till it's over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain't running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| Dial 9-1...and wait | |
| Dial 9-1...and wait | |
| Tonight we fight for something more | |
| Then what we lost | |
| The ambulance outside the house | |
| The fire's dead so shut your mouth | |
| And let it all come crashing down | |
| Today it ain't over till it's over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain't running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| So dial 9-1...and wait | |
| Dial 9-1...and wait |
| zuo qu : The Casting Out | |
| Gimme sweat and adrenaline | |
| Gimme something I can believe | |
| This music' s stale, these drinks are weak | |
| Drop down, give it ten | |
| We' ve been falling asleep | |
| Wake up, watch out | |
| Now we' ve got ourself deep | |
| The party died, the mood got cheap | |
| Stale lust, fake heart | |
| Like a hole in the head | |
| White washed, white bread | |
| We' d be better of dead | |
| The feeling' s gone, the passion left | |
| Today it ain' t over till it' s over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain' t running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| Dial 91... and wait | |
| Push, pop, talk, shop | |
| Keep it pretty and sweet | |
| Stand still, no frills | |
| Where the hell have I been | |
| And why' s everyone look like a junky | |
| Sit down, shut up | |
| Ya look bored, unsure, so clever indeed | |
| No game, so tame, I got places to be | |
| While you' re starring at your feet | |
| Today it ain' t over till it' s over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain' t running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| Dial 91... and wait | |
| Dial 91... and wait | |
| Tonight we fight for something more | |
| Then what we lost | |
| The ambulance outside the house | |
| The fire' s dead so shut your mouth | |
| And let it all come crashing down | |
| Today it ain' t over till it' s over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain' t running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| So dial 91... and wait | |
| Dial 91... and wait |
| zuò qǔ : The Casting Out | |
| Gimme sweat and adrenaline | |
| Gimme something I can believe | |
| This music' s stale, these drinks are weak | |
| Drop down, give it ten | |
| We' ve been falling asleep | |
| Wake up, watch out | |
| Now we' ve got ourself deep | |
| The party died, the mood got cheap | |
| Stale lust, fake heart | |
| Like a hole in the head | |
| White washed, white bread | |
| We' d be better of dead | |
| The feeling' s gone, the passion left | |
| Today it ain' t over till it' s over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain' t running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| Dial 91... and wait | |
| Push, pop, talk, shop | |
| Keep it pretty and sweet | |
| Stand still, no frills | |
| Where the hell have I been | |
| And why' s everyone look like a junky | |
| Sit down, shut up | |
| Ya look bored, unsure, so clever indeed | |
| No game, so tame, I got places to be | |
| While you' re starring at your feet | |
| Today it ain' t over till it' s over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain' t running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| Dial 91... and wait | |
| Dial 91... and wait | |
| Tonight we fight for something more | |
| Then what we lost | |
| The ambulance outside the house | |
| The fire' s dead so shut your mouth | |
| And let it all come crashing down | |
| Today it ain' t over till it' s over | |
| But hey | |
| We ain' t running from our fate | |
| So stay | |
| Dig a hole, arrange the flowers | |
| This dying scene has nothing left to say | |
| So dial 91... and wait | |
| Dial 91... and wait |
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