Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
ooh..Mr. Turner ooh...Mr. Turner | |
It was a fine Sunday morning | |
When I walked into your room | |
And your eyes they were telling me | |
You didn t wanna be alone | |
Oh how you made my heart ache | |
I guess you didn’t know that | |
For Mr Turner, Mr Turner | |
Yor looked like my Grandpa | |
You room it was full of | |
The sunshine of yesterday | |
The pictures on your walls | |
They made you smile | |
Oh but they made me cry | |
I looked your bookshelves | |
You were reading Gorbachev and | |
The Eastern Bloc s history | |
The Eastern Bloc s history | |
And Edgar Allan Poe | |
Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
Oh, How you made my heart ache | |
I asked you why you came here | |
You told me it s just part of life | |
You said growing old | |
Was like being thrown in a pool | |
And you had to swim | |
Or you had to drown | |
I told ya you didn‘t have to worry | |
That life s just like a day | |
And growing up was sunrise | |
And growing old was sunset | |
I wanna hold your hand in mine | |
Oh Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
You know you were very much like my grandpa | |
Oh Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner... | |
And now that I have left you | |
I wish you all the best | |
That you‘ll love your life | |
Like you’ll love a good sunset | |
And then you’ll have all the glory of | |
The dying rays of the sun | |
That will never set | |
or the sun that will set | |
But will rise again someday |
Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
ooh.. Mr. Turner ooh... Mr. Turner | |
It was a fine Sunday morning | |
When I walked into your room | |
And your eyes they were telling me | |
You didn t wanna be alone | |
Oh how you made my heart ache | |
I guess you didn' t know that | |
For Mr Turner, Mr Turner | |
Yor looked like my Grandpa | |
You room it was full of | |
The sunshine of yesterday | |
The pictures on your walls | |
They made you smile | |
Oh but they made me cry | |
I looked your bookshelves | |
You were reading Gorbachev and | |
The Eastern Bloc s history | |
The Eastern Bloc s history | |
And Edgar Allan Poe | |
Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
Oh, How you made my heart ache | |
I asked you why you came here | |
You told me it s just part of life | |
You said growing old | |
Was like being thrown in a pool | |
And you had to swim | |
Or you had to drown | |
I told ya you didn' t have to worry | |
That life s just like a day | |
And growing up was sunrise | |
And growing old was sunset | |
I wanna hold your hand in mine | |
Oh Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
You know you were very much like my grandpa | |
Oh Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner... | |
And now that I have left you | |
I wish you all the best | |
That you' ll love your life | |
Like you' ll love a good sunset | |
And then you' ll have all the glory of | |
The dying rays of the sun | |
That will never set | |
or the sun that will set | |
But will rise again someday |
Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
ooh.. Mr. Turner ooh... Mr. Turner | |
It was a fine Sunday morning | |
When I walked into your room | |
And your eyes they were telling me | |
You didn t wanna be alone | |
Oh how you made my heart ache | |
I guess you didn' t know that | |
For Mr Turner, Mr Turner | |
Yor looked like my Grandpa | |
You room it was full of | |
The sunshine of yesterday | |
The pictures on your walls | |
They made you smile | |
Oh but they made me cry | |
I looked your bookshelves | |
You were reading Gorbachev and | |
The Eastern Bloc s history | |
The Eastern Bloc s history | |
And Edgar Allan Poe | |
Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
Oh, How you made my heart ache | |
I asked you why you came here | |
You told me it s just part of life | |
You said growing old | |
Was like being thrown in a pool | |
And you had to swim | |
Or you had to drown | |
I told ya you didn' t have to worry | |
That life s just like a day | |
And growing up was sunrise | |
And growing old was sunset | |
I wanna hold your hand in mine | |
Oh Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner | |
You know you were very much like my grandpa | |
Oh Mr Turner, oh Mr Turner... | |
And now that I have left you | |
I wish you all the best | |
That you' ll love your life | |
Like you' ll love a good sunset | |
And then you' ll have all the glory of | |
The dying rays of the sun | |
That will never set | |
or the sun that will set | |
But will rise again someday |