歌曲 | Pizzeria |
歌手 | Marah |
专辑 | 20,000 Streets Under the Sky |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Bielanko, Bielanko | |
Pizzeria I still see 'ya | |
Even though your history | |
You used to sell me cigarettes | |
When I was just a boy of eleventeen | |
Your pepperoni and your garlic powder | |
Were on my breath in my finest hour | |
The night I sniffed the eight ball's power | |
And got shocked into a man | |
Pizzeria I still see 'ya | |
Even though you turned Chinese | |
I still hear your boombox blaring | |
Rock and roll and air condition wheeze | |
Your dollar slices and your backroom vices | |
Were in my blood when I roll the dices | |
The night I robbed the Italian ices | |
And got picked up like a bitch | |
Chorus: | |
Your Star Trek rolled up a shit TV | |
And your phone kept ringing so desperately | |
These yesterdays keep hanging round my neck | |
Like rolled chains of gold Italia | |
Jailhouses they come and go | |
These tattooed girls drag me down so low | |
But memories they stand the test of time | |
Somehow, man, when all else fails you | |
Pizzeria I still see 'ya | |
Every summer on these evening streets | |
Your counter guys in their platform boots | |
They're just ghosts made of evening heat | |
Your pizza boxes under halogen lights | |
Stood like a castle in my eyes tonight | |
Then it all collapsed when I took one bite | |
Of Sweet and Sour #9 | |
Chorus |
zuo qu : Bielanko, Bielanko | |
Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
Even though your history | |
You used to sell me cigarettes | |
When I was just a boy of eleventeen | |
Your pepperoni and your garlic powder | |
Were on my breath in my finest hour | |
The night I sniffed the eight ball' s power | |
And got shocked into a man | |
Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
Even though you turned Chinese | |
I still hear your boombox blaring | |
Rock and roll and air condition wheeze | |
Your dollar slices and your backroom vices | |
Were in my blood when I roll the dices | |
The night I robbed the Italian ices | |
And got picked up like a bitch | |
Chorus: | |
Your Star Trek rolled up a shit TV | |
And your phone kept ringing so desperately | |
These yesterdays keep hanging round my neck | |
Like rolled chains of gold Italia | |
Jailhouses they come and go | |
These tattooed girls drag me down so low | |
But memories they stand the test of time | |
Somehow, man, when all else fails you | |
Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
Every summer on these evening streets | |
Your counter guys in their platform boots | |
They' re just ghosts made of evening heat | |
Your pizza boxes under halogen lights | |
Stood like a castle in my eyes tonight | |
Then it all collapsed when I took one bite | |
Of Sweet and Sour 9 | |
Chorus |
zuò qǔ : Bielanko, Bielanko | |
Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
Even though your history | |
You used to sell me cigarettes | |
When I was just a boy of eleventeen | |
Your pepperoni and your garlic powder | |
Were on my breath in my finest hour | |
The night I sniffed the eight ball' s power | |
And got shocked into a man | |
Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
Even though you turned Chinese | |
I still hear your boombox blaring | |
Rock and roll and air condition wheeze | |
Your dollar slices and your backroom vices | |
Were in my blood when I roll the dices | |
The night I robbed the Italian ices | |
And got picked up like a bitch | |
Chorus: | |
Your Star Trek rolled up a shit TV | |
And your phone kept ringing so desperately | |
These yesterdays keep hanging round my neck | |
Like rolled chains of gold Italia | |
Jailhouses they come and go | |
These tattooed girls drag me down so low | |
But memories they stand the test of time | |
Somehow, man, when all else fails you | |
Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
Every summer on these evening streets | |
Your counter guys in their platform boots | |
They' re just ghosts made of evening heat | |
Your pizza boxes under halogen lights | |
Stood like a castle in my eyes tonight | |
Then it all collapsed when I took one bite | |
Of Sweet and Sour 9 | |
Chorus |