Live From The Russian Compound Lyrics
| Song | Live From The Russian Compound |
| Artist | The Locust |
| Album | Plague Soundscapes |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Justin Pearson/Gabe Serbian/Joseph Karam/Robert Bray | |
| Cowboy lawman-found a cell | |
| Tore into it-as night fell | |
| Bankers kids are | |
| getting bingo'd | |
| Smells like midnight's | |
| cooked up a storm in here | |
| Leave those loose lips | |
| at home or at the | |
| rubble that's left | |
| when you return | |
| Have an armed guard posted at your flag | |
| Stroll through town with | |
| a gun stuffed in your pants | |
| Bankers kids are | |
| getting bingo'd | |
| Smells like midnight's | |
| cooked up a storm in here | |
| Leave those loose lips | |
| at home or at the | |
| rubble that's left | |
| when you return | |
| Criminal lawman-found a cell | |
| Tore into it-made life hell | |
| Bombs bursting-houses burning | |
| Diplomacy's tyrant treats |
| zuo qu : Justin Pearson Gabe Serbian Joseph Karam Robert Bray | |
| Cowboy lawmanfound a cell | |
| Tore into itas night fell | |
| Bankers kids are | |
| getting bingo' d | |
| Smells like midnight' s | |
| cooked up a storm in here | |
| Leave those loose lips | |
| at home or at the | |
| rubble that' s left | |
| when you return | |
| Have an armed guard posted at your flag | |
| Stroll through town with | |
| a gun stuffed in your pants | |
| Bankers kids are | |
| getting bingo' d | |
| Smells like midnight' s | |
| cooked up a storm in here | |
| Leave those loose lips | |
| at home or at the | |
| rubble that' s left | |
| when you return | |
| Criminal lawmanfound a cell | |
| Tore into itmade life hell | |
| Bombs burstinghouses burning | |
| Diplomacy' s tyrant treats |
| zuò qǔ : Justin Pearson Gabe Serbian Joseph Karam Robert Bray | |
| Cowboy lawmanfound a cell | |
| Tore into itas night fell | |
| Bankers kids are | |
| getting bingo' d | |
| Smells like midnight' s | |
| cooked up a storm in here | |
| Leave those loose lips | |
| at home or at the | |
| rubble that' s left | |
| when you return | |
| Have an armed guard posted at your flag | |
| Stroll through town with | |
| a gun stuffed in your pants | |
| Bankers kids are | |
| getting bingo' d | |
| Smells like midnight' s | |
| cooked up a storm in here | |
| Leave those loose lips | |
| at home or at the | |
| rubble that' s left | |
| when you return | |
| Criminal lawmanfound a cell | |
| Tore into itmade life hell | |
| Bombs burstinghouses burning | |
| Diplomacy' s tyrant treats |
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