watch the planes go bysilver in the skywe do whatever we likeoh when you and mesee the birds and the seathe people on the streetswe do whatever we pleasebut every monday morning comes,every monday morning, yeah, yeahoh every monday morning comes,every monday morning, yeahoh when you and iwatch the london skythe traffic rolling bywe do whatever we likeso we chase the day awayand feel the morning rainpiss our money down the drainand do whatever they saybut every monday morning comes,every monday morning, yeah, yeahoh every monday morning comes,every monday morning, yeahhave you ever been this low?have you ever been this low?the taxis take you where you wanna gobroken windows, endless television showsi haven't ever been so lowi am the one, i sing the songmy lights are on but there's nobody homeso much happening todaya thousand people come and go and stay and fade awaythey draw the blinds and watch the showhave you ever been so low?i am the one, i sing the songmy lights are on but there's nobody home. . . nobody home------another no oneshe takes the blame, takes the pain but the world smiles'cos outside is just a taxi ride to drive awayso she packs her bag, calls a cab and the world smilesand inside well she feels all right and turns to say:"yes it's the end, the final showdownyes it's the end of our small loveyou'll have to find another no one to take the shit like i havewell i guess this is the end, i guess this is the end."she feels the sun, phones her mum and the world smiles'cos outside in the morning light it's another dayso she packs her bag, smokes a fag and the world smiles'cos inside well she feels all right, and turns to say:"yes it's the end, the final showdownyes it's the end of our small loveyou'll have to find another no one who'll take the shit like i havewell i guess this is the end, i guess this is the end . . . oh well . . ."------young mentony only reads asian babesdanny's doing doves on down the ravesterry drinks his money awayoh god, and his sons play drums all dayon the scene, on the dole, in your eyes, in your soul,the young menyou are the ones, are the scene, are the sons, are the young menyoung men, here we, here we go againles says punk isn't deadmick is not impeccably bredpaul he just can't get out of bedoh god, and phil's still off his headon the scene, on the dole, in your eyes, in your soul,the young menyou are the ones, are the system, are the sons, are the young menyoung men, here we, here we go againon the scene, on the dole, in your eyes, in your soul, the young menyou are the ones, are the scene, are the young mencheating on the wives, all shiny suits and lazy lies, the young meninsulting everyone, picked up your sister, kicked your son, the young menfighting in the clubs, flash on the streets, cash in the pubs, the youngmenboozing on the train, p-45's and cheap champagne - the young men------the sound of the streets
2004年06月17日 07点06分
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