| Song | For Fun |
| Artist | The Hidden Cameras |
| Album | Awoo |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Gibb | |
| In my evil, little graveyard | |
| There was writing on the wall | |
| We were concocting 'round the cauldron | |
| A dream that was to come | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| He fretted and he fronted | |
| With an accidental charm | |
| 'Til he had forgotten all the words | |
| To his own monologue | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| When I heard the angel call | |
| She put a needle in my bone | |
| She dabbled in my marrow | |
| I was convinced she was the balm | |
| I knew she warded off evil | |
| that would inevitably come | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| In the flash of a fall | |
| It gave rise a lonely charge | |
| That turned into a spark | |
| That in turn gave rise to thought | |
| Thought turned into scrawl | |
| Scribbling into its own form, | |
| Form became a law | |
| That would crumble into dust | |
| For fun, for fun | |
| For fun, for fun | |
| The fun, the fun of it all |
| zuo qu : Gibb | |
| In my evil, little graveyard | |
| There was writing on the wall | |
| We were concocting ' round the cauldron | |
| A dream that was to come | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| He fretted and he fronted | |
| With an accidental charm | |
| ' Til he had forgotten all the words | |
| To his own monologue | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| When I heard the angel call | |
| She put a needle in my bone | |
| She dabbled in my marrow | |
| I was convinced she was the balm | |
| I knew she warded off evil | |
| that would inevitably come | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| In the flash of a fall | |
| It gave rise a lonely charge | |
| That turned into a spark | |
| That in turn gave rise to thought | |
| Thought turned into scrawl | |
| Scribbling into its own form, | |
| Form became a law | |
| That would crumble into dust | |
| For fun, for fun | |
| For fun, for fun | |
| The fun, the fun of it all |
| zuò qǔ : Gibb | |
| In my evil, little graveyard | |
| There was writing on the wall | |
| We were concocting ' round the cauldron | |
| A dream that was to come | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| He fretted and he fronted | |
| With an accidental charm | |
| ' Til he had forgotten all the words | |
| To his own monologue | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| When I heard the angel call | |
| She put a needle in my bone | |
| She dabbled in my marrow | |
| I was convinced she was the balm | |
| I knew she warded off evil | |
| that would inevitably come | |
| For fun, for fun, for fun, for fun | |
| In the flash of a fall | |
| It gave rise a lonely charge | |
| That turned into a spark | |
| That in turn gave rise to thought | |
| Thought turned into scrawl | |
| Scribbling into its own form, | |
| Form became a law | |
| That would crumble into dust | |
| For fun, for fun | |
| For fun, for fun | |
| The fun, the fun of it all |