歌曲 | Live At The Marquee |
歌手 | The Vapors |
专辑 | The Best Of The Vapors |
作词 : Fenton | |
Same thing happens every day | |
Can't explain it any way | |
Sun comes up day goes by | |
Sun goes down and that's when I | |
Come alive to the fact | |
That I've really got no control | |
I | |
m a live twenty fine | |
But I've still got no control | |
Of me of you | |
Control of the hole | |
That the post comes through | |
One stop here two stops there | |
One big scream and I | |
m back in my chair | |
I'm alive to the fact that | |
I've really got no control | |
I'm a live twenty five | |
But I've still got no control; | |
And we talk too much | |
And we won't let go | |
We relax too much | |
In the after glow | |
But we're alive at the marquee | |
Live at the Marquee | |
And it's just another country | |
But they change there times and sides | |
Like the farcical feet of a marching band | |
So we're all getting cynical | |
Their smiles may fade | |
But we don | |
t care anymore | |
We | |
re a boys brigade | |
So we all die of cancer | |
For a few flowers outside | |
Or a day in the life of a fruit machine | |
And we're all playing asteroids | |
There's a score on the screen | |
Not a soul in the worlds gonna beat | |
But it won | |
t stop me |
zuò cí : Fenton | |
Same thing happens every day | |
Can' t explain it any way | |
Sun comes up day goes by | |
Sun goes down and that' s when I | |
Come alive to the fact | |
That I' ve really got no control | |
I | |
m a live twenty fine | |
But I' ve still got no control | |
Of me of you | |
Control of the hole | |
That the post comes through | |
One stop here two stops there | |
One big scream and I | |
m back in my chair | |
I' m alive to the fact that | |
I' ve really got no control | |
I' m a live twenty five | |
But I' ve still got no control | |
And we talk too much | |
And we won' t let go | |
We relax too much | |
In the after glow | |
But we' re alive at the marquee | |
Live at the Marquee | |
And it' s just another country | |
But they change there times and sides | |
Like the farcical feet of a marching band | |
So we' re all getting cynical | |
Their smiles may fade | |
But we don | |
t care anymore | |
We | |
re a boys brigade | |
So we all die of cancer | |
For a few flowers outside | |
Or a day in the life of a fruit machine | |
And we' re all playing asteroids | |
There' s a score on the screen | |
Not a soul in the worlds gonna beat | |
But it won | |
t stop me |