A Plateful of Our Dead
π΅ 1012 characters
β±οΈ 4:29 duration
π ID: 529813
π Lyrics
Don't ever ask us to define our morals
Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak
Some of us are all of us; half-selves that love whole hopes
And hara-kiri heartbreak
There's almost nothing worse than never being real
Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear
If I had a gun I'd pump your ethics full of lead
If I believed in meat I'd eat a plateful of our dead
There's merit in construction when it's done with your own hands
There's beauty in destruction, resurrection, another chance
There's a you and I in union but just an I in my beliefs
There's a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone's naΓ―ve
The only proof that I have that we shot and killed this horse
Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse
When I'm In this state of reflection and you hand me whips
And two by fours I could never bring them down and beat the same horse as before
I'd rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds around
Until a garden with our bullet-laden morals will be found
Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak
Some of us are all of us; half-selves that love whole hopes
And hara-kiri heartbreak
There's almost nothing worse than never being real
Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear
If I had a gun I'd pump your ethics full of lead
If I believed in meat I'd eat a plateful of our dead
There's merit in construction when it's done with your own hands
There's beauty in destruction, resurrection, another chance
There's a you and I in union but just an I in my beliefs
There's a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone's naΓ―ve
The only proof that I have that we shot and killed this horse
Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse
When I'm In this state of reflection and you hand me whips
And two by fours I could never bring them down and beat the same horse as before
I'd rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds around
Until a garden with our bullet-laden morals will be found
β±οΈ Synced Lyrics
[00:28.93] Don't ever ask us to define our morals
[00:33.09] Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak
[00:36.75] Some of us are all of us; half-selves that love whole hopes
[00:44.06] And hara-kiri heartbreak
[00:48.01] There's almost nothing worse than never being real
[00:54.48] Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear
[01:01.07] If I had a gun I'd pump your ethics full of lead
[01:08.39] If I believed in meat I'd eat a plateful of our dead
[01:16.31] There's merit in construction when it's done with your own hands
[01:20.80] There's beauty in destruction, resurrection, another chance
[01:24.52] There's a you and I in union but just an I in my beliefs
[01:28.19] There's a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone's naΓ―ve
[01:31.66] The only proof that I have that we shot and killed this horse
[01:36.72] Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse
[01:55.03] When I'm In this state of reflection and you hand me whips
[02:03.05] And two by fours I could never bring them down and beat the same horse as before
[02:27.10] I'd rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds around
[02:33.01] Until a garden with our bullet-laden morals will be found
[03:03.44]
[00:33.09] Sometimes when fundamentals meet teenage heartbreak
[00:36.75] Some of us are all of us; half-selves that love whole hopes
[00:44.06] And hara-kiri heartbreak
[00:48.01] There's almost nothing worse than never being real
[00:54.48] Strained voices crying wolf when nobody can hear
[01:01.07] If I had a gun I'd pump your ethics full of lead
[01:08.39] If I believed in meat I'd eat a plateful of our dead
[01:16.31] There's merit in construction when it's done with your own hands
[01:20.80] There's beauty in destruction, resurrection, another chance
[01:24.52] There's a you and I in union but just an I in my beliefs
[01:28.19] There's a crashing plane with a banner that reads everyone's naΓ―ve
[01:31.66] The only proof that I have that we shot and killed this horse
[01:36.72] Is the sounds of whips on flesh and a bleeding heart remorse
[01:55.03] When I'm In this state of reflection and you hand me whips
[02:03.05] And two by fours I could never bring them down and beat the same horse as before
[02:27.10] I'd rather kill a stupid flower and spread its seeds around
[02:33.01] Until a garden with our bullet-laden morals will be found
[03:03.44]