Song | Brady Street Stroll |
Artist | Peter Mulvey |
Album | The Knuckleball Suite |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Cebar, Mulvey | |
Brady street in summer | |
strolling the wine | |
all them dapper couples | |
in their summer getup | |
looking so fine | |
so fine | |
Meet me down at rou chamble | |
drink your coffee | |
Ill drink my wine | |
Firemen on the frontstoop watch the ladies go by | |
up above the branches theres a thundercloud way off in the sky | |
in the sky | |
but noones in a hurry | |
it´ll get here by and by | |
its not afternoon on bleeker | |
its not two am on bourbon street | |
god knows its not the champs elussey | |
but airs that you dont put on | |
are airs that never get in your way | |
because high hats just a bar here | |
it aint no big thing | |
you can stroll from glory olsows down to the nomad | |
here them pigeonbirds sing | |
oh hear them pigeonbirds sing | |
let us tip into his hardware | |
pick yourself out some ductape hunny | |
ill spring | |
Ghost of bunky lowlife at the oakland and deer | |
but over by van burens street old bog dony echoes | |
hang in the air | |
oh those echoes hang in the air | |
this is brady street in summer | |
baby you aint just anywhere |
zuo qu : Cebar, Mulvey | |
Brady street in summer | |
strolling the wine | |
all them dapper couples | |
in their summer getup | |
looking so fine | |
so fine | |
Meet me down at rou chamble | |
drink your coffee | |
Ill drink my wine | |
Firemen on the frontstoop watch the ladies go by | |
up above the branches theres a thundercloud way off in the sky | |
in the sky | |
but noones in a hurry | |
it ll get here by and by | |
its not afternoon on bleeker | |
its not two am on bourbon street | |
god knows its not the champs elussey | |
but airs that you dont put on | |
are airs that never get in your way | |
because high hats just a bar here | |
it aint no big thing | |
you can stroll from glory olsows down to the nomad | |
here them pigeonbirds sing | |
oh hear them pigeonbirds sing | |
let us tip into his hardware | |
pick yourself out some ductape hunny | |
ill spring | |
Ghost of bunky lowlife at the oakland and deer | |
but over by van burens street old bog dony echoes | |
hang in the air | |
oh those echoes hang in the air | |
this is brady street in summer | |
baby you aint just anywhere |
zuò qǔ : Cebar, Mulvey | |
Brady street in summer | |
strolling the wine | |
all them dapper couples | |
in their summer getup | |
looking so fine | |
so fine | |
Meet me down at rou chamble | |
drink your coffee | |
Ill drink my wine | |
Firemen on the frontstoop watch the ladies go by | |
up above the branches theres a thundercloud way off in the sky | |
in the sky | |
but noones in a hurry | |
it ll get here by and by | |
its not afternoon on bleeker | |
its not two am on bourbon street | |
god knows its not the champs elussey | |
but airs that you dont put on | |
are airs that never get in your way | |
because high hats just a bar here | |
it aint no big thing | |
you can stroll from glory olsows down to the nomad | |
here them pigeonbirds sing | |
oh hear them pigeonbirds sing | |
let us tip into his hardware | |
pick yourself out some ductape hunny | |
ill spring | |
Ghost of bunky lowlife at the oakland and deer | |
but over by van burens street old bog dony echoes | |
hang in the air | |
oh those echoes hang in the air | |
this is brady street in summer | |
baby you aint just anywhere |