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Coffee Rings on Tuesdays - 牙牙乐Rita.lrc

LRC Lyrics download
[00:00.000] 作词 : 牙牙乐Rita
[00:01.000] 作曲 : 牙牙乐Rita
[00:02.000] 编曲 : 牙牙乐Rita
[00:04.920]A chipped yellow mug holdsyesterday's rain
[00:09.660]The metro card hides in the pocket of pain
[00:14.430]Keys jingle- jangle a familiar tune
[00:18.900]We're all just ghosts in thelaundromat's noon
[00:23.310]Oh the postman brings bills and a postcard from Spain
[00:27.900]But the cat on the windowsill licks its disdain
[00:32.490]Life's a half- written novel left under the bed
[00:37.290]With coffee rings marking chapterswe've read
[01:00.420]We laugh in the chaos, we cry in the queue
[01:05.070]The world spins too fast but our shadows stay true
[01:09.210]In the cracks of the pavement, in bus seat graffiti
[01:14.640]That's where the gods write their mundane poetry
[01:24.510]Theumbrella's ribs ache from too many storms
[01:28.320]Its fabric remembers the shape of your arm
[01:32.910]The fridge hums a ballad to wilted kale
[01:37.500]While Netflix asks" Are you still watching?"– Hell, yes I am
[01:41.640]Time folds like origami ingrandma's old clock
[01:46.860]Each crease holds a secret, each tear makes a dock
[01:51.420]We're ships made of paper, we sail on a sigh
[01:56.340]Chasing the moon in apuddle's blind eye
[02:00.690]We laugh in the chaos, we cry in the queue
[02:05.370]The world spins too fast but our shadows stay true
[02:09.480]In the cracks of the pavement, in bus seat graffiti
[02:14.940]That's where the gods write their mundane poetry
[03:08.310]The toaster pops up like existential doubt
[03:10.620]Two charred slices whisper:"What's life about?"
[03:12.930]We spread jam on questions, sip tea from the void
[03:15.270]And dance with the dust motes wecan't avoid
text lyrics
作词 : 牙牙乐Rita
作曲 : 牙牙乐Rita
编曲 : 牙牙乐Rita
A chipped yellow mug holdsyesterday's rain
The metro card hides in the pocket of pain
Keys jingle- jangle a familiar tune
We're all just ghosts in thelaundromat's noon
Oh the postman brings bills and a postcard from Spain
But the cat on the windowsill licks its disdain
Life's a half- written novel left under the bed
With coffee rings marking chapterswe've read
We laugh in the chaos, we cry in the queue
The world spins too fast but our shadows stay true
In the cracks of the pavement, in bus seat graffiti
That's where the gods write their mundane poetry
Theumbrella's ribs ache from too many storms
Its fabric remembers the shape of your arm
The fridge hums a ballad to wilted kale
While Netflix asks" Are you still watching?"– Hell, yes I am
Time folds like origami ingrandma's old clock
Each crease holds a secret, each tear makes a dock
We're ships made of paper, we sail on a sigh
Chasing the moon in apuddle's blind eye
We laugh in the chaos, we cry in the queue
The world spins too fast but our shadows stay true
In the cracks of the pavement, in bus seat graffiti
That's where the gods write their mundane poetry
The toaster pops up like existential doubt
Two charred slices whisper:"What's life about?"
We spread jam on questions, sip tea from the void
And dance with the dust motes wecan't avoid