歌词
Burning hot, swelling can
Tasting salty, smelling sour
Drowning eyes and throat
Falling apart the body
Out of the tower
With thousands of racers
Crashing in the cages
Out of the tower
With thousands of racers
Crashing in the cages
Half the century's battle
Twenty one grams were thrown
Half the century's battle
Twenty one grams were thrown
Just lost it, it's not bad
Drop it, it's not bad
10, 8, 5, 1
The jaw deep into the pitch
The blank mind is all here now
This is rush hour
Dreadful