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Emily Davis
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The Broken Machine
Well there's nothing more tragic than a beatiful love that grows cold in the night washes out with the tide of the tears that you cried lamenting the things you desired. Now you're a slave to the beat of the broken machine your heart has become so maudlin in grief that it ticks ever so slightly on every third count. But you, you were my divine 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 you were everything, always, that I could not find in myself. I was alone there and then there was you. But you broke me, you broke me. Yeah you broke me, you broke me. ow you're a slave to the beat of the broken machine your heart has become so maudlin in grief that it ticks ever so slightly on every third count.
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