I'll Make My Own Hours Lyrics
| Song | I'll Make My Own Hours |
| Artist | The Number Twelve Looks Like You |
| Album | Worse Than Alone |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Karel, Korman, Pareja, Pedrick ... | |
| Ten thousand times I could tell you over, | |
| How many times I would rip through walls and ticking a typing. | |
| I wrote a library of books in that back closet. | |
| Scraping at the walls, with my knees in a magazine. | |
| Roll her on out just to slide her back in. | |
| Unravelling rolls into their machinery and click away. | |
| This was where you could embrace misery. | |
| With enough energy you could talk yourself out of anything. | |
| A mind in flight, full of addiction; a circulating masterpiece | |
| This glorious night, as I trip the horizon turns vertical. | |
| I'd burn this place down if I had a match. | |
| My nicotine hands are shaking. | |
| A frantic voice is at the other side of the receiver. | |
| "Won't you even tell me a portion of the problem?" | |
| I grab a fist full of air and lunge at your face. |
| zuo qu : Karel, Korman, Pareja, Pedrick ... | |
| Ten thousand times I could tell you over, | |
| How many times I would rip through walls and ticking a typing. | |
| I wrote a library of books in that back closet. | |
| Scraping at the walls, with my knees in a magazine. | |
| Roll her on out just to slide her back in. | |
| Unravelling rolls into their machinery and click away. | |
| This was where you could embrace misery. | |
| With enough energy you could talk yourself out of anything. | |
| A mind in flight, full of addiction a circulating masterpiece | |
| This glorious night, as I trip the horizon turns vertical. | |
| I' d burn this place down if I had a match. | |
| My nicotine hands are shaking. | |
| A frantic voice is at the other side of the receiver. | |
| " Won' t you even tell me a portion of the problem?" | |
| I grab a fist full of air and lunge at your face. |
| zuò qǔ : Karel, Korman, Pareja, Pedrick ... | |
| Ten thousand times I could tell you over, | |
| How many times I would rip through walls and ticking a typing. | |
| I wrote a library of books in that back closet. | |
| Scraping at the walls, with my knees in a magazine. | |
| Roll her on out just to slide her back in. | |
| Unravelling rolls into their machinery and click away. | |
| This was where you could embrace misery. | |
| With enough energy you could talk yourself out of anything. | |
| A mind in flight, full of addiction a circulating masterpiece | |
| This glorious night, as I trip the horizon turns vertical. | |
| I' d burn this place down if I had a match. | |
| My nicotine hands are shaking. | |
| A frantic voice is at the other side of the receiver. | |
| " Won' t you even tell me a portion of the problem?" | |
| I grab a fist full of air and lunge at your face. |
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