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Grindstone歌词

歌曲名: Grindstone  歌手: Uncle Tupelo  所属专辑: 《Uncle Tupelo 89/93: An Anthology》

介绍:《Grindstone》 是 Uncle Tupelo 演唱的歌曲,该歌曲收录在《Uncle Tupelo 89/93: An Anthology》专辑中,如果您觉得好听的话,就把歌词分享给您的朋友共同聆听,一起支持歌手Uncle Tupelo吧!

Grindstone

if you find yourself standing at the end of your line looking for a piece of something maybe a piece of mind fed up, lost, and run down nowhere to hold on tired of, take your place at the end son we'll get to you one by one no light ever shines dead end tears that dry maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life every hour will be spent filling a quota, just getting alonghandcuffs hurt worse when you've done nothing wrong no thanks to the treadmill no thanks to the grindstone there's plenty of dissent from these rungs below the clockwork of destruction hanging low over our heads always a smokestack cloud or a slow-walking death no light ever shines dead-end tears that dry maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life no thanks to the treadmill no thanks to the grindstone there's plenty of dissent from these rungs below the clockwork of destruction hanging low over our heads always a smokestack cloud or a slow-walking death no light ever shines dead-end tears that dry maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life

GrindstoneLRC歌词

if you find yourself standing at the end of your line looking for a piece of something maybe a piece of mind fed up, lost, and run down nowhere to hold on tired of, take your place at the end son we'll get to you one by one no light ever shines dead end tears that dry maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life every hour will be spent filling a quota, just getting alonghandcuffs hurt worse when you've done nothing wrong no thanks to the treadmill no thanks to the grindstone there's plenty of dissent from these rungs below the clockwork of destruction hanging low over our heads always a smokestack cloud or a slow-walking death no light ever shines dead-end tears that dry maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life no thanks to the treadmill no thanks to the grindstone there's plenty of dissent from these rungs below the clockwork of destruction hanging low over our heads always a smokestack cloud or a slow-walking death no light ever shines dead-end tears that dry maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life maybe a waste of words and time never a waste of life

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