More songs by ADMT
Description
Background Vocals, Lead Vocals: ADMT
Drums, Synths, Sound Engineer, Piano, Programming: Charlie Martin
Background Vocals, Guitar, Sound Engineer: Joe Housley
Sound Engineer: Charles Haydon Hicks
Sound Engineer: Damjan Blažun
Author, Composer: Adam Taylor
Author, Composer: Joe Housley
Author, Composer: Charlie Martin
Lyrics and translation
Original
I hold an image of the ashtray girl with cigarette burns on my chest.
I went hard at the square of the world and put our friendship to the test.
And late at night, while on her floors, she used to watch me kiss the floor.
What's wrong with this nature? What's wrong with this nature?
Farewell, the ashtray girl, forbidden snowflake. Beware this troubled world.
Watch out for earthquakes.
Goodbye to open sores, to broken semaphore. You know we miss her.
We miss her picture.
Sometimes it's fated, disintegrated. The fear of growing old.
Sometimes it's fated, assassinated.
The fear of growing old.
Farewell the ashtray girl, angelic fruitcake.
Beware this troubled world, control your intake.
Goodbye to open sores. Goodbye and furthermore.
You know we miss her.
We miss her picture.
Sometimes it's fated, disintegrated.
The fear of growing old.
Sometimes it's fated, assassinated.
The fear of growing old.
Hang on.
Though we try, it's gone.
Hang on.
Though we try, it's gone.
Sometimes it's fated, disintegrated.
The fear of growing old.
Sometimes it's fated, assassinated.
The fear of growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old
English translation
I hold an image of the ashtray girl with cigarette burns on my chest.
I went hard at the square of the world and put our friendship to the test.
And late at night, while on her floors, she used to watch me kiss the floor.
What's wrong with this nature? What's wrong with this nature?
Farewell, the ashtray girl, forbidden snowflake. Beware this troubled world.
Watch out for earthquakes.
Goodbye to open sores, to broken semaphore. You know we miss her.
We miss her picture.
Sometimes it's fated, disintegrated. The fear of growing old.
Sometimes it's fated, assassinated.
The fear of growing old.
Farewell the ashtray girl, angelic fruitcake.
Beware this troubled world, control your intake.
Goodbye to open sores. Goodbye and furthermore.
You know we miss her.
We miss her picture.
Sometimes it's fated, disintegrated.
The fear of growing old.
Sometimes it's fated, assassinated.
The fear of growing old.
Hang on.
Though we try, it's gone.
Hang on.
Though we try, it's gone.
Sometimes it's fated, disintegrated.
The fear of growing old.
Sometimes it's fated, assassinated.
The fear of growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old.
We can't stop growing old