An Aptly Fictional Description Lyrics
| Song | An Aptly Fictional Description |
| Artist | The Number Twelve Looks Like You |
| Album | Nuclear. Sad. Nuclear. |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Number Twelve Looks ... | |
| And it was so contradictory yet deliberately put | |
| Never should we start a lecture with a quote | |
| Two tone stage background, | |
| The actors returning home to eat | |
| Food covered in nothing, good, served in purple plasticwear. | |
| The orchestra isn't craving our attention, | |
| It sparks the active chords and the stage is set ablaze. | |
| The conductor lights a cigarette, | |
| We look at illustrations of ourselves, | |
| The orchestra isn't craving, just isn't craving our attention. | |
| Appliances that would blow a fuse at any time | |
| While conducting an ancient family recipe to the very next generation. | |
| We never saw them coming, | |
| We've been throwing stones at glass houses for too long it's such a cliche. |
| zuo qu : Number Twelve Looks ... | |
| And it was so contradictory yet deliberately put | |
| Never should we start a lecture with a quote | |
| Two tone stage background, | |
| The actors returning home to eat | |
| Food covered in nothing, good, served in purple plasticwear. | |
| The orchestra isn' t craving our attention, | |
| It sparks the active chords and the stage is set ablaze. | |
| The conductor lights a cigarette, | |
| We look at illustrations of ourselves, | |
| The orchestra isn' t craving, just isn' t craving our attention. | |
| Appliances that would blow a fuse at any time | |
| While conducting an ancient family recipe to the very next generation. | |
| We never saw them coming, | |
| We' ve been throwing stones at glass houses for too long it' s such a cliche. |
| zuò qǔ : Number Twelve Looks ... | |
| And it was so contradictory yet deliberately put | |
| Never should we start a lecture with a quote | |
| Two tone stage background, | |
| The actors returning home to eat | |
| Food covered in nothing, good, served in purple plasticwear. | |
| The orchestra isn' t craving our attention, | |
| It sparks the active chords and the stage is set ablaze. | |
| The conductor lights a cigarette, | |
| We look at illustrations of ourselves, | |
| The orchestra isn' t craving, just isn' t craving our attention. | |
| Appliances that would blow a fuse at any time | |
| While conducting an ancient family recipe to the very next generation. | |
| We never saw them coming, | |
| We' ve been throwing stones at glass houses for too long it' s such a cliche. |
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