歌曲 | Sell-Out Agitation Waltz |
歌手 | Mimi And Richard Farina |
专辑 | Reflections In A Crystal Wind |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
Well… | |
you know the reason that nobody’s pleasin’ | |
the one who’s been freezing him out | |
The times are unsteady | |
And nobody’s ready | |
To sleep in a bed full of doubt | |
But if you wanna fool around | |
And run around | |
All over town | |
There’s no telling where it will end | |
The teachers say you gotta stay | |
In school just another day | |
And study the logical trend | |
So cut your hair | |
And never stare | |
At people who ain’t aware | |
That every morning they wake up dead | |
Take off your boots | |
And find your roots | |
And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
Who have a collective idea | |
Well you’ve been a-gassin’ | |
And you been harrassing | |
The one who’s been passing you by | |
The right time for groovin’ | |
Is always improvin’ | |
Provided you learn to comply | |
Society is never geared | |
To people who grow a beard | |
Or little girls with holes in their ears | |
They’re liable to hunt you down | |
And dress you in a wedding gown | |
And offer substantial careers | |
They’ll buy you a suit of clothes | |
And pay to get another nose | |
So no one will turn you away | |
You’ll wear a tie | |
And hope to die | |
If any more you try to buy | |
From people with nothing to say | |
So find a loose alternative | |
If that’s the way you wanna live | |
And give up unusual friends | |
There’s still time to straighten out | |
And learn how to beat about | |
And make your great plan of amends | |
So cut your hair | |
And never stare | |
At people who ain’t aware | |
That every morning they wake up dead | |
Take off your boots | |
And find your roots | |
And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
who have a collective idea... |
Well | |
you know the reason that nobody' s pleasin' | |
the one who' s been freezing him out | |
The times are unsteady | |
And nobody' s ready | |
To sleep in a bed full of doubt | |
But if you wanna fool around | |
And run around | |
All over town | |
There' s no telling where it will end | |
The teachers say you gotta stay | |
In school just another day | |
And study the logical trend | |
So cut your hair | |
And never stare | |
At people who ain' t aware | |
That every morning they wake up dead | |
Take off your boots | |
And find your roots | |
And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
Who have a collective idea | |
Well you' ve been agassin' | |
And you been harrassing | |
The one who' s been passing you by | |
The right time for groovin' | |
Is always improvin' | |
Provided you learn to comply | |
Society is never geared | |
To people who grow a beard | |
Or little girls with holes in their ears | |
They' re liable to hunt you down | |
And dress you in a wedding gown | |
And offer substantial careers | |
They' ll buy you a suit of clothes | |
And pay to get another nose | |
So no one will turn you away | |
You' ll wear a tie | |
And hope to die | |
If any more you try to buy | |
From people with nothing to say | |
So find a loose alternative | |
If that' s the way you wanna live | |
And give up unusual friends | |
There' s still time to straighten out | |
And learn how to beat about | |
And make your great plan of amends | |
So cut your hair | |
And never stare | |
At people who ain' t aware | |
That every morning they wake up dead | |
Take off your boots | |
And find your roots | |
And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
who have a collective idea... |
Well | |
you know the reason that nobody' s pleasin' | |
the one who' s been freezing him out | |
The times are unsteady | |
And nobody' s ready | |
To sleep in a bed full of doubt | |
But if you wanna fool around | |
And run around | |
All over town | |
There' s no telling where it will end | |
The teachers say you gotta stay | |
In school just another day | |
And study the logical trend | |
So cut your hair | |
And never stare | |
At people who ain' t aware | |
That every morning they wake up dead | |
Take off your boots | |
And find your roots | |
And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
Who have a collective idea | |
Well you' ve been agassin' | |
And you been harrassing | |
The one who' s been passing you by | |
The right time for groovin' | |
Is always improvin' | |
Provided you learn to comply | |
Society is never geared | |
To people who grow a beard | |
Or little girls with holes in their ears | |
They' re liable to hunt you down | |
And dress you in a wedding gown | |
And offer substantial careers | |
They' ll buy you a suit of clothes | |
And pay to get another nose | |
So no one will turn you away | |
You' ll wear a tie | |
And hope to die | |
If any more you try to buy | |
From people with nothing to say | |
So find a loose alternative | |
If that' s the way you wanna live | |
And give up unusual friends | |
There' s still time to straighten out | |
And learn how to beat about | |
And make your great plan of amends | |
So cut your hair | |
And never stare | |
At people who ain' t aware | |
That every morning they wake up dead | |
Take off your boots | |
And find your roots | |
And join the ranks of the young recruits | |
who have a collective idea... |