 |
My baby's in the kitchen on a big red trombone I'm in the bedroom on the cursed phone. Everybody laughs when the band goes too slow, Meeting every Tuesday in a club in Soho. I'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza. Paul's in the hall with the bedroom plaything, Wishing he could give her a damn good thrashing. Everybody cries "Well, good for you Paul". We never liked her very much at all I'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza. I'm just swinging on magic shoes Got three wee chords, and I just can't lose. I'm just finding my own way there So I lost my voice and I grew my hair Brother John's long gone, Keeps his nose clean He's sucking on a black and white TV screen. Says he got a girl and a paper (paid for?) memory, Pictures on the wall and a dog named Henry I'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza. Ella's in the band but she's always solo, Dressed in rags and covered in dayglo, Banging on the drums like a big white throwback, Screaming all the while at her husband poor Jack. I'm just dreaming of Rockafeller Plaza. I'm just waiting for pigs to fly. Got coke yeah, brains and no reason why. Might just split and go half as slow. And me, your dog and your one man show. [GUITAR SOLO] I'm just swinging on magic shoes Got three wee chords, and I just can't lose. I'm just finding my own way there So I lost my voice and I grew my hair I'm just waiting for pigs to fly. Got coke yeah, brains and no reason why. Might just split and go half as slow. And me, your dog and your one man show. |
Videos
|
Add
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2007-2009 LyricWorld.com, LoiNhac.com
© 2009 lyricworld.com, loinhac.com are two of a family of companies in the LmVN Group.