| Song | The Ghost Never Smiles |
| Artist | Cindytalk |
| Album | Camouflage Heart |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Cindytalk, Sharp | |
| The ghost in the squalor | |
| Alive and so well | |
| Thriving on the mess | |
| And the noise | |
| The ghost in the dirt | |
| And falling around | |
| Inside... | |
| Maybe only for sunday | |
| Maybe only for sunday | |
| The mass and the worship | |
| Inside the old system of hanging the martyr | |
| We kneel and stay happy | |
| We kneel and stay happy | |
| There's safety in silence | |
| And dance with the statue | |
| It's cracking the bullwhip | |
| It's cracking the bullwhip | |
| And laughing in madness | |
| It's cracking... | |
| ahhh ahhhhhhhh | |
| There's a wildness inside me | |
| A strangeness coming over | |
| There's a wildness inside me | |
| It's kicking out | |
| It's kicking out | |
| The ghost never smiles | |
| Only to worship the soldier | |
| In his neatly pressed uniform | |
| Holding weapon and ready to fire | |
| Maybe the ghost could walk right through | |
| The smart young soldier so eager to fire | |
| Simulating-masturbation | |
| Simulating-masturbation | |
| The ghost never smiles | |
| You can tell this is real | |
| For the soldier is has died | |
| And his body is fear | |
| Now with the sunday singing quietly... | |
| (Maybe the ghost is crying for the young soldier, | |
| Crying for the young soldier) | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Holding my body is fear |
| zuo qu : Cindytalk, Sharp | |
| The ghost in the squalor | |
| Alive and so well | |
| Thriving on the mess | |
| And the noise | |
| The ghost in the dirt | |
| And falling around | |
| Inside... | |
| Maybe only for sunday | |
| Maybe only for sunday | |
| The mass and the worship | |
| Inside the old system of hanging the martyr | |
| We kneel and stay happy | |
| We kneel and stay happy | |
| There' s safety in silence | |
| And dance with the statue | |
| It' s cracking the bullwhip | |
| It' s cracking the bullwhip | |
| And laughing in madness | |
| It' s cracking... | |
| ahhh ahhhhhhhh | |
| There' s a wildness inside me | |
| A strangeness coming over | |
| There' s a wildness inside me | |
| It' s kicking out | |
| It' s kicking out | |
| The ghost never smiles | |
| Only to worship the soldier | |
| In his neatly pressed uniform | |
| Holding weapon and ready to fire | |
| Maybe the ghost could walk right through | |
| The smart young soldier so eager to fire | |
| Simulatingmasturbation | |
| Simulatingmasturbation | |
| The ghost never smiles | |
| You can tell this is real | |
| For the soldier is has died | |
| And his body is fear | |
| Now with the sunday singing quietly... | |
| Maybe the ghost is crying for the young soldier, | |
| Crying for the young soldier | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Holding my body is fear |
| zuò qǔ : Cindytalk, Sharp | |
| The ghost in the squalor | |
| Alive and so well | |
| Thriving on the mess | |
| And the noise | |
| The ghost in the dirt | |
| And falling around | |
| Inside... | |
| Maybe only for sunday | |
| Maybe only for sunday | |
| The mass and the worship | |
| Inside the old system of hanging the martyr | |
| We kneel and stay happy | |
| We kneel and stay happy | |
| There' s safety in silence | |
| And dance with the statue | |
| It' s cracking the bullwhip | |
| It' s cracking the bullwhip | |
| And laughing in madness | |
| It' s cracking... | |
| ahhh ahhhhhhhh | |
| There' s a wildness inside me | |
| A strangeness coming over | |
| There' s a wildness inside me | |
| It' s kicking out | |
| It' s kicking out | |
| The ghost never smiles | |
| Only to worship the soldier | |
| In his neatly pressed uniform | |
| Holding weapon and ready to fire | |
| Maybe the ghost could walk right through | |
| The smart young soldier so eager to fire | |
| Simulatingmasturbation | |
| Simulatingmasturbation | |
| The ghost never smiles | |
| You can tell this is real | |
| For the soldier is has died | |
| And his body is fear | |
| Now with the sunday singing quietly... | |
| Maybe the ghost is crying for the young soldier, | |
| Crying for the young soldier | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Touching my body is fear | |
| Holding my body is fear |