Song | Teehans |
Artist | The Tossers |
Album | On a Fine Spring Morning |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Duggins, Tossers | |
I used to wonder where my da was at night | |
When him and ma would start to fight | |
Out soaked in 95th street beer | |
It was the strap I had to fear | |
As he would prowl around the southside at night | |
I'm old enough now in these places to be seen | |
With every gobshite fuckin tinker and jackeen | |
To Christina's place I'm drunk as hell | |
Or even the Ashford house as well | |
There was always one place that kept me in | |
Your always welcome at teehans | |
Any time of the year | |
You're always welcome at teehans | |
And I wish you were here | |
While Shawn was outside pissing in the row | |
Regis was in the back counting her dough | |
And Sue and Eileen were there | |
Without a bother or a care | |
Linda had your last shot before you'd go | |
Now our resident philosopher is Noel | |
And soon enough it's two and time for him to go | |
But we're not done no fucking way | |
It's back to the west side where I stay | |
And the four o'clock bars that never close | |
I've shook hands with city fathers and with cogs | |
And simple men that climbed in from the bogs | |
That said that music is a higher call | |
Than philosophy and art and all | |
The wisdom thats created by these dogs | |
Now when I left home the fire it was lit | |
To keep the faeries out my ma went into fits | |
And it was way down in Berlin | |
They cursed me for an Englishman | |
But to tell the truth I cannot give a shit |
zuo qu : Duggins, Tossers | |
I used to wonder where my da was at night | |
When him and ma would start to fight | |
Out soaked in 95th street beer | |
It was the strap I had to fear | |
As he would prowl around the southside at night | |
I' m old enough now in these places to be seen | |
With every gobshite fuckin tinker and jackeen | |
To Christina' s place I' m drunk as hell | |
Or even the Ashford house as well | |
There was always one place that kept me in | |
Your always welcome at teehans | |
Any time of the year | |
You' re always welcome at teehans | |
And I wish you were here | |
While Shawn was outside pissing in the row | |
Regis was in the back counting her dough | |
And Sue and Eileen were there | |
Without a bother or a care | |
Linda had your last shot before you' d go | |
Now our resident philosopher is Noel | |
And soon enough it' s two and time for him to go | |
But we' re not done no fucking way | |
It' s back to the west side where I stay | |
And the four o' clock bars that never close | |
I' ve shook hands with city fathers and with cogs | |
And simple men that climbed in from the bogs | |
That said that music is a higher call | |
Than philosophy and art and all | |
The wisdom thats created by these dogs | |
Now when I left home the fire it was lit | |
To keep the faeries out my ma went into fits | |
And it was way down in Berlin | |
They cursed me for an Englishman | |
But to tell the truth I cannot give a shit |
zuò qǔ : Duggins, Tossers | |
I used to wonder where my da was at night | |
When him and ma would start to fight | |
Out soaked in 95th street beer | |
It was the strap I had to fear | |
As he would prowl around the southside at night | |
I' m old enough now in these places to be seen | |
With every gobshite fuckin tinker and jackeen | |
To Christina' s place I' m drunk as hell | |
Or even the Ashford house as well | |
There was always one place that kept me in | |
Your always welcome at teehans | |
Any time of the year | |
You' re always welcome at teehans | |
And I wish you were here | |
While Shawn was outside pissing in the row | |
Regis was in the back counting her dough | |
And Sue and Eileen were there | |
Without a bother or a care | |
Linda had your last shot before you' d go | |
Now our resident philosopher is Noel | |
And soon enough it' s two and time for him to go | |
But we' re not done no fucking way | |
It' s back to the west side where I stay | |
And the four o' clock bars that never close | |
I' ve shook hands with city fathers and with cogs | |
And simple men that climbed in from the bogs | |
That said that music is a higher call | |
Than philosophy and art and all | |
The wisdom thats created by these dogs | |
Now when I left home the fire it was lit | |
To keep the faeries out my ma went into fits | |
And it was way down in Berlin | |
They cursed me for an Englishman | |
But to tell the truth I cannot give a shit |