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Koop
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Beyond The Son
作詞:R Gallagher, Oscar Bengt Simonsson, Magnus Gustaf Zingmark
Dear, thanks for your letter Sounds like you're living the way you wanted And that makes me smile No, I hadn't heard Bjorn Borg retired
Thank God one of us has a finger on an sporting pulse No records left to collect your complaint Well, Borg, Brolin and an unknown tennis trainer Released something recently No doubt your contacts in the Stockholm underworld Can source that gem
Got back the other day to find the pub On the corner had been burnt down A dark London street story, I won't burden you with now Determined as I am to write you some life affirming shit
And not drag you an a regular trawl Through the night seas to find what crawls Yet I know they're casting their lots to see Who can get the old pubs' lease And turn it into more luxury flats
Brick by brick the infiltration has begun I feel moved to take a spray can And ending step to the boarding But as yet I can't think of anything witty Or on point enough to be up there
Yet the drunkards still own the park D's still there in your old flat making beats And still owns the night While this street can still shape shift And make you quicken your pace on a late night return
So I suppose we still have time But make no mistake my friend I'm sure some barricade somewhere has started calling
I'm so sorry we missed each other When you last came to town I heard from Ndeye you sat with her Telling stories for three hours while And he put some extensions in a client's hair
She told me about Cuba, cigars and sacred drums 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 Of arguments in bars, Dante The color of Christ and the only true poet The South China Seas Remembered Fa Yung, the Buddhist master
'How can we obtain truth through words?' When she quoted your, 'Immature writer's plagiarize Mature writers steal' I was back in a bar in New York, Lower East Side When you shouted that at
Maybe it was yourself, maybe I wasn't there Maybe it's slipped down between the years My memory isn't exactly all that now But my friend, you definitely have a convert there
And if you ever need your hair braiding And I know that's a long shot then she's your girl As my man scratch or maybe Rakim or maybe Monk More probably all of them at some stage said 'You gotta check the new style'
I'm assuming you are still running An old testament blades to hair ratio And it hasn't fallen rudely out on you If that's the scenario then my sincerest apologies
Saw Mr. Brenan in the Holloway road yesterday Walked past with a bag of potatoes on his shoulders I didn't stop him he wouldn't have a clue who the hell I was He didn't back then When we'd spent month's sleeping on his sofa
Explaining which one of his son's friends we were Well, that's the price you pay For any more than six children in the Holloway road area
I think of you often And hope we see each other again as soon as possible Until such time may the winds be at your back The dice be kind and the gods turn the occasional blind eye
Sincerely yours Beyond the clouds Beyond the son The rebel without a cause
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