Brendan Benson

Brendan Benson - Folk Singer songtekst

Je score:

(Benson/Falkner)



Like a folk singer's song, I'm moving on

And I'm not the kind of man that acts very strong

When the girls are looking on

When the girls are looking on (When the girls are looking on)

If you tied my hands and put chains on my feet

I can picture myself walking down any street

Telling people that I meet,

"Psst, looks like rain to me" (Looks like rain to me)



And every single day at eleven I'm home in bed in sleep heaven

Alone 'cause my girl leaves at seven

Ain't got time for my bed-in

She says "Stop pretendin'

You're not John Lennon"

Will I ever get over this

Having tasted your lips with a kiss?

You can cross me off your list

Take these cuffs from off my wrist

And drop your fist



As soon as I'm well I'm gonna leave my house

Become more of a man and less like a mouse

Drive my car down south to the Mississippi's mouth

In the Gulf of Mexico I'll be soused

Every girl I made in the shade of Esplanade

I've saved in a song that I play when I'm afraid of a full-scale air raid

From the choices that I've made



And every single day at eleven I'm home in bed in sleep heaven

Alone 'cause my girl leaves at seven

Ain't got time for my bed-in

She says "Stop pretendin'

You're not John Lennon"

Will I ever get over this

Having tasted your lips with a kiss?

You would cross me off your list

Take these cuffs from off my wrist

And drop your fist.

Drop your fist.



No matter how much you take of each song that I make

I'm not fragile, I don't break and I'm down at the lake

And I hope some day you'll have it made with all that money that you make

It was fun while it lasted and then it was blasted

Right out of the water and into fantastic

Now he feels shafted and she's already past it

She's like elastic and he just seems spastic



Every single day at eleven I'm home in bed in sleep heaven

Alone 'cause my girl leaves at seven

Ain't got time for my bed-in

She says "Stop pretendin'

You're not John Lennon"

Will I ever get over this

Having tasted your lips with a kiss?

You can cross me off your list

Take these cuffs from off my wrist

If I ever get over this

You can cross me off your list

Take these cuffs from off my wrist

And drop your fist.
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Taal: Engels

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