作词 : Rea | |
There's a crazy sense of duty | |
As he licks between his fingers | |
Wipes the ketchup from his face and hands | |
There's a strong determination | |
That his teachers never witnessed | |
Never close enough to understand | |
He's like a bull just bred for fighting | |
He don't deliver nothing | |
Outside the only thing that he knows | |
School report just says he's lazy | |
His brother says he's crazy | |
But take a look 'cos there he goes | |
Through the avenues of fashion | |
To the palaces of dreams | |
All the way down guitar street | |
To some guitars are hot-rods | |
All along the quest for macho | |
To others a would-be ticket out of town | |
For joe a six-string sten gun | |
In the 'panto-revolution' | |
And stevie's all just strictly sound | |
He's like a bull just bred for fighting | |
He don't deliver nothing | |
Outside the only thing that he knows | |
School report just says he's lazy | |
His brother says he's crazy | |
But anyway take a look 'cos there he goes | |
Through the avenues of fashion | |
To the palaces of dreams | |
All the way down guitar street |
zuo ci : Rea | |
There' s a crazy sense of duty | |
As he licks between his fingers | |
Wipes the ketchup from his face and hands | |
There' s a strong determination | |
That his teachers never witnessed | |
Never close enough to understand | |
He' s like a bull just bred for fighting | |
He don' t deliver nothing | |
Outside the only thing that he knows | |
School report just says he' s lazy | |
His brother says he' s crazy | |
But take a look ' cos there he goes | |
Through the avenues of fashion | |
To the palaces of dreams | |
All the way down guitar street | |
To some guitars are hotrods | |
All along the quest for macho | |
To others a wouldbe ticket out of town | |
For joe a sixstring sten gun | |
In the ' pantorevolution' | |
And stevie' s all just strictly sound | |
He' s like a bull just bred for fighting | |
He don' t deliver nothing | |
Outside the only thing that he knows | |
School report just says he' s lazy | |
His brother says he' s crazy | |
But anyway take a look ' cos there he goes | |
Through the avenues of fashion | |
To the palaces of dreams | |
All the way down guitar street |
zuò cí : Rea | |
There' s a crazy sense of duty | |
As he licks between his fingers | |
Wipes the ketchup from his face and hands | |
There' s a strong determination | |
That his teachers never witnessed | |
Never close enough to understand | |
He' s like a bull just bred for fighting | |
He don' t deliver nothing | |
Outside the only thing that he knows | |
School report just says he' s lazy | |
His brother says he' s crazy | |
But take a look ' cos there he goes | |
Through the avenues of fashion | |
To the palaces of dreams | |
All the way down guitar street | |
To some guitars are hotrods | |
All along the quest for macho | |
To others a wouldbe ticket out of town | |
For joe a sixstring sten gun | |
In the ' pantorevolution' | |
And stevie' s all just strictly sound | |
He' s like a bull just bred for fighting | |
He don' t deliver nothing | |
Outside the only thing that he knows | |
School report just says he' s lazy | |
His brother says he' s crazy | |
But anyway take a look ' cos there he goes | |
Through the avenues of fashion | |
To the palaces of dreams | |
All the way down guitar street |