Tytuł: A bit of you

• Wykonawca: Rufus Wainwright
• Wyświetleń: 221

  
   A bit of you the only drug I must abuse
  A bit of you is the only substance I cannot refuse
  When I walk on Spring
  Beneath the stench a bit of you is all I smell
  Upon the shelves a bit of you I ask "they sell?"
  When I walk on Spring
  
  Cause there ain't no style
  No there ain't no style
  Cause there ain't no style
  And in fact there is just one other problem
  You live up in Harlem
  
  Of course I had no knowledge of this at the time
  That came apr¨¨s July on the Upper West Side
  Waiting for the fall
  When from the Battery on up to your front door
  From mother ship the rocket launching twister whores
  Would blow up it all
  
  Cause there ain't no style...
  And in fact there is just one other problem
  I would have spared Harlem
  
  Affections sent, straight to Chekov, say you need me
  Don't you need me, wait I thought we're on Broadway
  No, my daddy said so: "still outside of Moscow"
  
  And so the days creep up to my big final show
  And not a word from you, an hour I must blow
  So I walk and see
  Upon the streets a faded island, press on eyes
  A big old pool of you's, zillions I realize
  And just one of me
  
  Cause there ain't no style...
  You've infected Harlem
  Guess I won't be waiting several hours
  Before nightfall for that A train,
  just the hiss of the dumes band play.