Song | Fitzgerald |
Artist | Frank Black |
Album | Fast Man Raider Man |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Black | |
It's sad to see your art hanging on the wall | |
So many pictures there, yours the best of all | |
I like the Indian, the one in ballpoint ink | |
In ancient Massachusetts long before you called | |
You traded him and many others for a drink | |
You fingers thick from hammers | |
Well, it really makes you think | |
And then my father would fill your glass so tall | |
When I was a kid I gophered in your crew | |
Always a kind word and you showed me what to do | |
And living hammered, well it's always hit or miss | |
But through your cigarette-stained beard, your love rang true | |
And though you are so loved it had to come to this | |
You got shut off because you always stink of piss | |
And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy |
zuo ci : Black | |
It' s sad to see your art hanging on the wall | |
So many pictures there, yours the best of all | |
I like the Indian, the one in ballpoint ink | |
In ancient Massachusetts long before you called | |
You traded him and many others for a drink | |
You fingers thick from hammers | |
Well, it really makes you think | |
And then my father would fill your glass so tall | |
When I was a kid I gophered in your crew | |
Always a kind word and you showed me what to do | |
And living hammered, well it' s always hit or miss | |
But through your cigarettestained beard, your love rang true | |
And though you are so loved it had to come to this | |
You got shut off because you always stink of piss | |
And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy |
zuò cí : Black | |
It' s sad to see your art hanging on the wall | |
So many pictures there, yours the best of all | |
I like the Indian, the one in ballpoint ink | |
In ancient Massachusetts long before you called | |
You traded him and many others for a drink | |
You fingers thick from hammers | |
Well, it really makes you think | |
And then my father would fill your glass so tall | |
When I was a kid I gophered in your crew | |
Always a kind word and you showed me what to do | |
And living hammered, well it' s always hit or miss | |
But through your cigarettestained beard, your love rang true | |
And though you are so loved it had to come to this | |
You got shut off because you always stink of piss | |
And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy | |
Oh, Fitzy |