Åñëè Âàøåé ëþáèìîé ïåñíè èëè àëüáîìà The Paper Chase íåò â ñïèñêå ïåñåí, òî Âû ìîæåòå äîáàâèòü èõ â íàøó êîëëåêöèþ ñ ïîìîùüþ ýòîé ôîðìû. Äîáàâèòü âèäåî-êëèïû ê ïåñíÿì Âû ìîæåòå íà ñîîòâåòñòâóþùèõ ñòðàíèöàõ. Òàê æå Âû ìîæåòå äîáàâèòü áèîãðàôèþ è äèñêîãðàôèþ ñ ïîìîùüþ ýòîé ññûëêè.
Åñëè Âû õîòèòå äîáàâèòü íîâîãî èñïîëíèòåëÿ è åãî ïåñíè, âîñïîëüçóéòåñü ýòîé ôîðìîé.
I’ll come back from the war but everything I touch seems to break
And I won’t be the same man I won’t be the same man you knew
And I was somewhat tickled by your gauge of your tickertape parade
Now you know and you know that I know
We could dance all night here on their graves
God bless our black souls
Cause the serpent still sleeps
Cause the servant still eats
The black guard is still some integral part of the ideas we keep
And there was no desperate ache or pain
As I sent my little babe to the drawer
After all after all we can’t all join hands and sing hallelujah
When there’s work to be done
Bring ‘em back
But don’t stop now you’re still ahead
Don’t get caught in pursuits like the rest
Don’t get smart now your need it you knew
Back long before this twisted soul
I’ll be someone you’d rather not know
I’ll be something that stings to believe
It won’t stop the war
But don’t stop now you’re still ahead
Don’t get caught in conceits like your dad
Don’t get smart now you need it you knew
Back long before this twisted soul
I’ll be something you’d rather not know
I’ll be something that stings to believe
Not me! As I kick and claw home in a box
Or find a place, job to claim, eat my heart
Hope I choke, hope I stroke, catch the flu
In you arm, the chair, the family heirlooms
The wife resents kids that fuck in your room
When we laugh we’ll be laughing at you
When you circle your draining fish bowl
Sell your house, sell your car, sell your soul
Spend your whole life just praying to spend your life
Ïåñíÿ The Paper Chase Now We Slowly Circle The Draining Fish Bowl ïðåäñòàâëåíà âàì Lyrics-Keeper. Flash-ôè÷ó ìîæíî èñïîëüçîâàòü â êà÷åñòâå êàðàîêå ê ïåñíå Now We Slowly Circle The Draining Fish Bowl, åñëè åñòü âîçìîæíîñòü ñêà÷àòü ìèíóñîâêó. Äëÿ íåêîòîðûõ êîìïîçèöèé äîñòóïåí ïðàâèëüíûé ïåðåâîä ïåñíè. Âû òàê æå ìîæåòå ñêà÷àòü ïåðåâîä òåêñòà ïåñíè The Paper Chase Now We Slowly Circle The Draining Fish Bowl çäåñü. Ìû ñòàðàåìñÿ ñäåëàòü òàê, ÷òîáû ñëîâà ïåñíè Now We Slowly Circle The Draining Fish Bowl áûëè íàèáîëåå òî÷íûìè, ïîýòîìó åñëè ó âàñ åñòü êàêèå-òî êîððåêòèðîâêè òåêñòà, ïîæàëóéñòà îòïðàâëÿéòå èõ íàì. Åñëè âû õîòèòå ñêà÷àòü áåñïëàòíî ýòó ïåñíþ â ôîðìàòå mp3, ïîñåòèòå îäíîãî èç íàøèõ ìóçûêàëüíûõ ñïîíñîðîâ.
