| Song | Bad Bad Levi Brown |
| Artist | Portugal. The Man |
| Album | Waiter: "You Vultures" |
| 作曲 : Gourley | |
| If I were a bear, | |
| I'd be the greatest of all | |
| With a speech like god so dark and foreboding | |
| Standing up tall from the top of that hill | |
| I’d growl up your fears from down below | |
| They’re restless spinning around | |
| Twisting hungry spitting tongues are restless | |
| In the form of the god that’s speaking out | |
| Laying bricks, growing walls, clicking stone | |
| And the sound that's awful in our ears | |
| Forcing sprouts and speaking out | |
| Like a carpenter | |
| Like these weathermen | |
| Like my brother | |
| These hands they never sleep | |
| Like the foundation | |
| Like the frames that meet | |
| Like these builders | |
| If I were a god | |
| I'd be the greatest of all | |
| With a speech so soft that loud it would kill you | |
| Standing up tall from the top of that hill | |
| I'd shout out commands to down below | |
| They are restless tangled mess protests burned | |
| And ears that bleed in rivers through the pipes | |
| That heat your homes and families’ plates |
| zuò qǔ : Gourley | |
| If I were a bear, | |
| I' d be the greatest of all | |
| With a speech like god so dark and foreboding | |
| Standing up tall from the top of that hill | |
| I' d growl up your fears from down below | |
| They' re restless spinning around | |
| Twisting hungry spitting tongues are restless | |
| In the form of the god that' s speaking out | |
| Laying bricks, growing walls, clicking stone | |
| And the sound that' s awful in our ears | |
| Forcing sprouts and speaking out | |
| Like a carpenter | |
| Like these weathermen | |
| Like my brother | |
| These hands they never sleep | |
| Like the foundation | |
| Like the frames that meet | |
| Like these builders | |
| If I were a god | |
| I' d be the greatest of all | |
| With a speech so soft that loud it would kill you | |
| Standing up tall from the top of that hill | |
| I' d shout out commands to down below | |
| They are restless tangled mess protests burned | |
| And ears that bleed in rivers through the pipes | |
| That heat your homes and families' plates |