Song | The Campaign For Real Rock |
Artist | Edwyn Collins |
Album | Gorgeous George |
作词 : Collins | |
Don't try so hard to be different | |
The cracks are beginning to show | |
You drift like a cloud through the festival crowd | |
In a frock coat from Saville Row | |
You've just been an all-night party | |
Where I have to admit it takes pluck | |
To go out on the floor and proclaim "What a bore" | |
In a T-shirt that reads "Disco Sucks" | |
Yes, here he comes, the not-so-young | |
Pretender to the Throne | |
He's singing "Rag, Momma, Rag" | |
Won't you give that poor dog a bone? | |
And he's wondering why we can't connect | |
When he's sworn to us that he's totally wrecked | |
On the rustic charm that he affects | |
On a public schoolboy whim | |
With a raggle taggle plastic gypsy | |
Robert Zimmerframe | |
With a synthesized accordian | |
A-scramblin' up my brain | |
With a fiddle-dee-dee a fiddle on high | |
Excuse me folks while I kiss the sky | |
Or at any rate give it one more try | |
Before I die | |
Before I die | |
The overrated hit the stage | |
Overpaid and over here | |
And their idea of counter-culture's | |
Momma's charge account at Sears | |
And they're wondering why we can't connect | |
With the ritual of the trashed guitar | |
One more paltry empty gesture | |
The ashes of a burned out star | |
Yes here they come, both old and young | |
A contact low or high | |
The gathering of the tribes descending | |
Vultures from a caustic sky | |
The rotting carcase of July | |
An ugly sun hung out to dry | |
You gorgeous hippy dreams are dying | |
Your frazzled brains are putrifying | |
Repackaged, sold and sanitizied | |
The devil's music exorcised | |
You live, you die, you lie, you lie, you die | |
Perpetuate the lie | |
Perpetuate the lie | |
Perpetuate the lie | |
Just to perpetuate the lie | |
Yes yes yes it's the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival | |
Yes yes yes it's the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival | |
Yes yes yes it's the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival |
zuò cí : Collins | |
Don' t try so hard to be different | |
The cracks are beginning to show | |
You drift like a cloud through the festival crowd | |
In a frock coat from Saville Row | |
You' ve just been an allnight party | |
Where I have to admit it takes pluck | |
To go out on the floor and proclaim " What a bore" | |
In a Tshirt that reads " Disco Sucks" | |
Yes, here he comes, the notsoyoung | |
Pretender to the Throne | |
He' s singing " Rag, Momma, Rag" | |
Won' t you give that poor dog a bone? | |
And he' s wondering why we can' t connect | |
When he' s sworn to us that he' s totally wrecked | |
On the rustic charm that he affects | |
On a public schoolboy whim | |
With a raggle taggle plastic gypsy | |
Robert Zimmerframe | |
With a synthesized accordian | |
Ascramblin' up my brain | |
With a fiddledeedee a fiddle on high | |
Excuse me folks while I kiss the sky | |
Or at any rate give it one more try | |
Before I die | |
Before I die | |
The overrated hit the stage | |
Overpaid and over here | |
And their idea of counterculture' s | |
Momma' s charge account at Sears | |
And they' re wondering why we can' t connect | |
With the ritual of the trashed guitar | |
One more paltry empty gesture | |
The ashes of a burned out star | |
Yes here they come, both old and young | |
A contact low or high | |
The gathering of the tribes descending | |
Vultures from a caustic sky | |
The rotting carcase of July | |
An ugly sun hung out to dry | |
You gorgeous hippy dreams are dying | |
Your frazzled brains are putrifying | |
Repackaged, sold and sanitizied | |
The devil' s music exorcised | |
You live, you die, you lie, you lie, you die | |
Perpetuate the lie | |
Perpetuate the lie | |
Perpetuate the lie | |
Just to perpetuate the lie | |
Yes yes yes it' s the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival | |
Yes yes yes it' s the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival | |
Yes yes yes it' s the summer festival the truly detestable summer festival |