Build us a vehicle,
Set us a course.
Pick up your sickle,
Get on board.
We're all going on a trip out.
We're all going on a trip out.
We're all getting, all getting out.
Out with the daggers,
Off with the gloves.
There is so much,
That you can loath.
And I can't stop thinking about it,
And I can't stop working it out.
It doesn't come much bigger than this.
You see a point and you make a wish.
Everything tragic,
Take it away.
One fine day before the apocalypse,
And I know it's not impossible.
From a hill top,
Worn out short grass,
I don't know how long it can last.
Up then toward the see saw.
Up then toward the gibberish.
Up then toward being a bore
Up then toward the apocalypse.
Build us a vehicle,
Set us a course.
Pick up your sickle,
Get on board.
Lonely are the brave.
There is a chance
Of happiness.
Yeah, but it is over so fast.
And I can't stop thinking about it,
And I can't stop working it out.
No la dee da,
No picnickers,
Just party, party in a tweety land.
How long, how long, how long?
One fine day before the apocalypse,
And I know it's not impossible.
From a hill top,
Worn out short grass,
I don't know how long it can last.
Up then toward the see saw.
Up then toward the gibberish.
Up then toward being a bore
Up then toward the apocalypse.
Set us a course.
Pick up your sickle,
Get on board.
We're all going on a trip out.
We're all going on a trip out.
We're all getting, all getting out.
Out with the daggers,
Off with the gloves.
There is so much,
That you can loath.
And I can't stop thinking about it,
And I can't stop working it out.
It doesn't come much bigger than this.
You see a point and you make a wish.
Everything tragic,
Take it away.
One fine day before the apocalypse,
And I know it's not impossible.
From a hill top,
Worn out short grass,
I don't know how long it can last.
Up then toward the see saw.
Up then toward the gibberish.
Up then toward being a bore
Up then toward the apocalypse.
Build us a vehicle,
Set us a course.
Pick up your sickle,
Get on board.
Lonely are the brave.
There is a chance
Of happiness.
Yeah, but it is over so fast.
And I can't stop thinking about it,
And I can't stop working it out.
No la dee da,
No picnickers,
Just party, party in a tweety land.
How long, how long, how long?
One fine day before the apocalypse,
And I know it's not impossible.
From a hill top,
Worn out short grass,
I don't know how long it can last.
Up then toward the see saw.
Up then toward the gibberish.
Up then toward being a bore
Up then toward the apocalypse.
song info:
Verificado yes
LínguaInglês
Gênero−
Classificação−
Duracao00:03:16
Cartas
Copyright ©Sony/ATV Music Publishing
EscritorJan Wilkinson, Jan Scott Wilkinson, Martin Noble, Matthew Wood, Matthew James Wood, Neil Wilkinson, Neil Hamilton Wilkinson
Letras licenciadas porLyricFind
AdicionadoDecember 10th, 2013
Ultima atualizaçãoMarch 5th, 2022
Sobre