Song | On Blonde Street |
Artist | Stephen Bishop |
Album | Blue Guitars |
作词 : Bishop | |
Well the Sun pokes thru' Blonde Street | |
and shines on the cracks | |
On the walls and the heartaches | |
and they never shine back | |
Patsy clutches her rosary | |
and from her window she sees | |
Lots of social interaction | |
from the people down on Blonde Street | |
Thru' the peephole she sees the Landlord | |
who's come for more than her rent | |
He says, "I'm kicking you out pronto. | |
unless your body gives me consent" | |
But Patsy won't give into just any guy | |
Crushed like a grape | |
from where she must hide...you see | |
Life is not her cup of tea...yeah | |
But she says, | |
"I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET | |
I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET" | |
There's a baby in the next room | |
Watchin' some guy die on T.V. | |
There are lovers in the basement | |
havin' some kind of touchin' spree | |
Down the hall there's young Jimbo | |
who's got his heart in hell | |
'Cause the girlfriend he got pregnant | |
is going on Sally Jesse Raphael | |
Patsy laughs at her girlfriends | |
They're tryin' to marry someone rich | |
They all hang around the sofa and say | |
"Hey, ain't love a bitch?" | |
And Mars is a Planet | |
Where she'll find her man | |
She'll sail thru' the black hole | |
'til it's his arms she's in | |
With eyes like Walnuts and Cinnamon skin | |
She won't be living the life of a Nun | |
and that's what she gets... | |
Well the Sun pokes thru' Blonde Street | |
and shines on the cracks | |
On the walls and the heartaches | |
and they never shine back | |
Her memories don't mean nothing | |
So she throws them away | |
Like that night in his bedroom | |
When he looked just like | |
a Young Hemingway | |
and she was the, "Catch of the Day"... | |
Now she's walkin' down Blonde Street | |
Where there's so many places to hide | |
She's got a River of denial | |
of what's locked up inside... | |
But she just wants to Fly... | |
and she says... | |
"I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET | |
I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET" |
zuò cí : Bishop | |
Well the Sun pokes thru' Blonde Street | |
and shines on the cracks | |
On the walls and the heartaches | |
and they never shine back | |
Patsy clutches her rosary | |
and from her window she sees | |
Lots of social interaction | |
from the people down on Blonde Street | |
Thru' the peephole she sees the Landlord | |
who' s come for more than her rent | |
He says, " I' m kicking you out pronto. | |
unless your body gives me consent" | |
But Patsy won' t give into just any guy | |
Crushed like a grape | |
from where she must hide... you see | |
Life is not her cup of tea... yeah | |
But she says, | |
" I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET | |
I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET" | |
There' s a baby in the next room | |
Watchin' some guy die on T. V. | |
There are lovers in the basement | |
havin' some kind of touchin' spree | |
Down the hall there' s young Jimbo | |
who' s got his heart in hell | |
' Cause the girlfriend he got pregnant | |
is going on Sally Jesse Raphael | |
Patsy laughs at her girlfriends | |
They' re tryin' to marry someone rich | |
They all hang around the sofa and say | |
" Hey, ain' t love a bitch?" | |
And Mars is a Planet | |
Where she' ll find her man | |
She' ll sail thru' the black hole | |
' til it' s his arms she' s in | |
With eyes like Walnuts and Cinnamon skin | |
She won' t be living the life of a Nun | |
and that' s what she gets... | |
Well the Sun pokes thru' Blonde Street | |
and shines on the cracks | |
On the walls and the heartaches | |
and they never shine back | |
Her memories don' t mean nothing | |
So she throws them away | |
Like that night in his bedroom | |
When he looked just like | |
a Young Hemingway | |
and she was the, " Catch of the Day"... | |
Now she' s walkin' down Blonde Street | |
Where there' s so many places to hide | |
She' s got a River of denial | |
of what' s locked up inside... | |
But she just wants to Fly... | |
and she says... | |
" I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET | |
I WANNA LIVE ON BLONDE STREET" |