Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Ses


Arayüz


Zorluk seviyesi


Aksan



arayüz dili

tr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Çerez politikası   |   Destek   |   FAQ
1
Kayıt Giriş
Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

5$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

10$

Lyrkit

bağış yapmak

20$

Lyrkit

Ve/veya beni sosyal medyada destekleyin. ağlar:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Shivaree

Lunch

 

Lunch

(albüm: I Oughta Give You A Shot In The Head - 1999)


It's not black enough to see where any white is
So I'll wait another hour for you and your designer jeans
And I remember you as heartless as a freeway
And I wonder if the time will make your eyes like Angelynes
Will you shuffle to your seat, greasy head and naked feet
And your expensive hands are swinging all your Beverly keys
The latest color on you lips and there's a satchel at your hips
And it's all full of broken Barbie dolls and disassembled dreams
If you don't want for them to hate you cause you beautiful
How can you want them all to love you for the same thing
For the same thing

You went and left you license on the car seat
You had a couple drinks with him and then you changed your name
And then he handed you a tambourine and whistled
No matter what they call you by, the meaning stays the same
Now your shotgun on the floor, your window's just a door
Riding backward 'cross state lines in high heels that they made you wear
Your steamers in the trunk, it's all loaded up with junk
Like lead and blood and dust and hair and stuff to kill the sting
You don't want for them to hate you because you're beautiful
How can you want them all to love you for the same thing

Now your shotgun on the floor, your window's just a door
Riding backward 'cross state lines in high heels that they made you wear
Your steamers in the trunk, it's all loaded up with junk
Like lead and blood and dust and hair and stuff to kill the sting
You don't want for them to hate you be cause you're beautiful
How can you want them all to love you

Tamamlandı

Bu şarkıdaki tüm yabancı kelimeleri eklediniz mi?