| 作词 : Perry, Tyler | |
| 1971, we all heard the starter gun | |
| New York is such a pity | |
| But at Max's Kansas City we won | |
| We all shot shit in the bar | |
| With Johnny O' Toole and his scar | |
| And then old Clive Davis said | |
| He's surely gonna make us a star | |
| Just the way | |
| But with all his style | |
| I could see in his eyes | |
| Thet we is goin' on trial | |
| It was no surprise | |
| The boys kept kickin' ass | |
| As usual time would tell | |
| But some bitch in the choir | |
| Threw water on the fires of hell | |
| She loved to shove and tell | |
| Lord, she loved to tell | |
| But with all our style | |
| You could see in our eyes | |
| That we is still on trial | |
| And it was no surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| Midnight lady | |
| Situation fetal | |
| vaccinate yo ass with yo phonograph needle | |
| I say look it here | |
| A friend of mine | |
| Scratch like you need calomine | |
| Flamingo boots, soles a creakin' | |
| Still in love and Puerto Rican too | |
| Ridin' on the wheels of hell | |
| Smokin' in our axle grease | |
| The backstage is rockin' | |
| And we're copping from the local polica | |
| That's right, the local police | |
| Or the juctice of peace | |
| But with all our style | |
| You could see in our eyes | |
| That we is still on trial | |
| Baby, it's no surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| Rock n' roll, junkie whore | |
| Got my foot inside the door | |
| Knock knock, knock kncok, knock | |
| Nobody's keepin' score | |
| Bad time go away | |
| Come again some other day | |
| Topaz and sazzafraz | |
| Will keep the blues away | |
| Candy store, rock n' roll | |
| Corporation jelly roll | |
| Play the singles, it ain't me | |
| It's programmed insanity | |
| You Ascap, if BMI | |
| Could ever make a mountain fly | |
| If Japanese can boil teas | |
| The where the fuck's my royalties |
| zuo ci : Perry, Tyler | |
| 1971, we all heard the starter gun | |
| New York is such a pity | |
| But at Max' s Kansas City we won | |
| We all shot shit in the bar | |
| With Johnny O' Toole and his scar | |
| And then old Clive Davis said | |
| He' s surely gonna make us a star | |
| Just the way | |
| But with all his style | |
| I could see in his eyes | |
| Thet we is goin' on trial | |
| It was no surprise | |
| The boys kept kickin' ass | |
| As usual time would tell | |
| But some bitch in the choir | |
| Threw water on the fires of hell | |
| She loved to shove and tell | |
| Lord, she loved to tell | |
| But with all our style | |
| You could see in our eyes | |
| That we is still on trial | |
| And it was no surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| Midnight lady | |
| Situation fetal | |
| vaccinate yo ass with yo phonograph needle | |
| I say look it here | |
| A friend of mine | |
| Scratch like you need calomine | |
| Flamingo boots, soles a creakin' | |
| Still in love and Puerto Rican too | |
| Ridin' on the wheels of hell | |
| Smokin' in our axle grease | |
| The backstage is rockin' | |
| And we' re copping from the local polica | |
| That' s right, the local police | |
| Or the juctice of peace | |
| But with all our style | |
| You could see in our eyes | |
| That we is still on trial | |
| Baby, it' s no surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| Rock n' roll, junkie whore | |
| Got my foot inside the door | |
| Knock knock, knock kncok, knock | |
| Nobody' s keepin' score | |
| Bad time go away | |
| Come again some other day | |
| Topaz and sazzafraz | |
| Will keep the blues away | |
| Candy store, rock n' roll | |
| Corporation jelly roll | |
| Play the singles, it ain' t me | |
| It' s programmed insanity | |
| You Ascap, if BMI | |
| Could ever make a mountain fly | |
| If Japanese can boil teas | |
| The where the fuck' s my royalties |
| zuò cí : Perry, Tyler | |
| 1971, we all heard the starter gun | |
| New York is such a pity | |
| But at Max' s Kansas City we won | |
| We all shot shit in the bar | |
| With Johnny O' Toole and his scar | |
| And then old Clive Davis said | |
| He' s surely gonna make us a star | |
| Just the way | |
| But with all his style | |
| I could see in his eyes | |
| Thet we is goin' on trial | |
| It was no surprise | |
| The boys kept kickin' ass | |
| As usual time would tell | |
| But some bitch in the choir | |
| Threw water on the fires of hell | |
| She loved to shove and tell | |
| Lord, she loved to tell | |
| But with all our style | |
| You could see in our eyes | |
| That we is still on trial | |
| And it was no surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| Midnight lady | |
| Situation fetal | |
| vaccinate yo ass with yo phonograph needle | |
| I say look it here | |
| A friend of mine | |
| Scratch like you need calomine | |
| Flamingo boots, soles a creakin' | |
| Still in love and Puerto Rican too | |
| Ridin' on the wheels of hell | |
| Smokin' in our axle grease | |
| The backstage is rockin' | |
| And we' re copping from the local polica | |
| That' s right, the local police | |
| Or the juctice of peace | |
| But with all our style | |
| You could see in our eyes | |
| That we is still on trial | |
| Baby, it' s no surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| No surprise | |
| Rock n' roll, junkie whore | |
| Got my foot inside the door | |
| Knock knock, knock kncok, knock | |
| Nobody' s keepin' score | |
| Bad time go away | |
| Come again some other day | |
| Topaz and sazzafraz | |
| Will keep the blues away | |
| Candy store, rock n' roll | |
| Corporation jelly roll | |
| Play the singles, it ain' t me | |
| It' s programmed insanity | |
| You Ascap, if BMI | |
| Could ever make a mountain fly | |
| If Japanese can boil teas | |
| The where the fuck' s my royalties |
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