Paroles de la chanson Pork Chop par Blondie
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Paroles de la chanson Pork Chop par Blondie
Uh, Roy?
Yes Deutch?
It's about my hats.
What about them? I mean, they bring something out in me. I...
I don't want that something, I want my hats back.
Why just... we're supposed to be friends... people who like each other want to see each other's lives enriched in some way...
You were seen last night in a restaurant havingdinnerwith one of my hats.
It's a small thing.
You know...
when I say you're a pork chop you best believe you're a pork chop.
Yes Deutch?
It's about my hats.
What about them? I mean, they bring something out in me. I...
I don't want that something, I want my hats back.
Why just... we're supposed to be friends... people who like each other want to see each other's lives enriched in some way...
You were seen last night in a restaurant havingdinnerwith one of my hats.
It's a small thing.
You know...
when I say you're a pork chop you best believe you're a pork chop.
P-O-R-K
C-H-O-P.
When a fella comes a callin' and you're waiting there til morning...
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
When he's whistlin his romances, and he's making other glances...
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
He's a running and a dancing while he paints the town a special blue.
Teaching roller skating to the missing farm, that's the way he do.
C-H-O-P.
When a fella comes a callin' and you're waiting there til morning...
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
When he's whistlin his romances, and he's making other glances...
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
He's a running and a dancing while he paints the town a special blue.
Teaching roller skating to the missing farm, that's the way he do.
So I care about things.
He can play mysterioso and everybody knows so.
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
Gonna leave me at the altar reading comic books by Faulkner.
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
He's dragging his ass round, promises he said he'd do
and I knew
he'd be ringin me this evening so suprised to hear me screaming "you're a pork chop!
Pork chop!"
I take issue.
He can play mysterioso and everybody knows so.
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
Gonna leave me at the altar reading comic books by Faulkner.
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
He's dragging his ass round, promises he said he'd do
and I knew
he'd be ringin me this evening so suprised to hear me screaming "you're a pork chop!
Pork chop!"
I take issue.
You should try Faulkner.
I should WHAT!?
Try Faulkner.
...soundsdirty.
Look. The thing is this: I am a doer.
Huh!
There are doers and there are don'ters.
Yes, yes...
I may not be there for you, but I am doing things.
Yes... uh huh...
That's a responsible person, a caring person, not what you say, a jambone de pork, whatever..
Wha... wait a second. Just wait a second...
*muffled argument*
I try to tell my feelings, and he's looking at the ceiling.
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
On and on about abuses, and he's sitting being useless.
He's a pork chop.
(That's for sure!)
He's dragging his ass round, promises he said he'd do
and I knew
he'd be ringin me this evening so suprised to hear me screaming "you're a pork chop!
Pork chop!"
I am suprised! I don't know why...
He's a pork chop.
Pork chop.
On and on about abuses, and he's sitting being useless.
He's a pork chop.
(That's for sure!)
He's dragging his ass round, promises he said he'd do
and I knew
he'd be ringin me this evening so suprised to hear me screaming "you're a pork chop!
Pork chop!"
I am suprised! I don't know why...
*more obscured arguing to end*
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