Paroles de la chanson From a Dead Beat to an Old Greaser par Jethro Tull
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Paroles de la chanson From a Dead Beat to an Old Greaser par Jethro Tull
From a dead beat to an old greaser, here's thinking of you
You won't remember the long nights;
Coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
In shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them)
When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I
And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture
Sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker
Jack Kerouac, Ren'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
Who were too wise for their own good left the young brood to go on living without them
You won't remember the long nights;
Coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
In shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them)
When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I
And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture
Sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker
Jack Kerouac, Ren'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
Who were too wise for their own good left the young brood to go on living without them
Old queers with young faces who remember your name
Though you're a dead beat with tired feet;
Two ends that don't meet
To a dead beat from an old greaser
Think you must have me all wrong
I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend
If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again
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