Letra da Música Ten Cent Blues de Eisley
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Dear orthodox
I can't control my feelings
And who hit me? I just might be coming 'roung the bush
And my stilts, they began cracking, subsequently pushed
And I look to see that it was she
Just some abandoned little crook like me
Adieu, adieu and fair thee well
This was the ending plea
Wah, wahoo
I was attached on bended knee
But I declined my lead
But who could blame a fraction of her being?
She is cheesy, she is scrawny with her uncanny styling
I'm teasing, she is pleasing
She just has no wit
And I'm sorry I don't have her face
And I'm probably going to lose this race
There is no doubt she's such a mouse with
Such an abstract grace
Wah, wahoo
There is no cure, I am sure
For this ten cent blues
Then she chose to dissect me
And I was casted into poverty
But I did not agree with her
She said, "Now you've got nerve"
But I don't care if I'm granted for all these things
If I were one among this crowd
Would you call that defeat?
In a way it's making me crazy
In a sense that it's making me stronger
A likely chance and it's probably proven
In the end we'll all walk away
Shaking hands on the doormats, I salute you sir
A stranger end, a happy fit so glad I'm part of it and that I saw it all
I can't control my feelings
And who hit me? I just might be coming 'roung the bush
And my stilts, they began cracking, subsequently pushed
And I look to see that it was she
Just some abandoned little crook like me
Adieu, adieu and fair thee well
This was the ending plea
Wah, wahoo
I was attached on bended knee
But I declined my lead
But who could blame a fraction of her being?
She is cheesy, she is scrawny with her uncanny styling
I'm teasing, she is pleasing
She just has no wit
And I'm sorry I don't have her face
And I'm probably going to lose this race
There is no doubt she's such a mouse with
Such an abstract grace
Wah, wahoo
There is no cure, I am sure
For this ten cent blues
Then she chose to dissect me
And I was casted into poverty
But I did not agree with her
She said, "Now you've got nerve"
But I don't care if I'm granted for all these things
If I were one among this crowd
Would you call that defeat?
In a way it's making me crazy
In a sense that it's making me stronger
A likely chance and it's probably proven
In the end we'll all walk away
Shaking hands on the doormats, I salute you sir
A stranger end, a happy fit so glad I'm part of it and that I saw it all
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Ficha Técnica da Música Ten Cent Blues
Número de Palavras | 209 |
Número de Letras | 1249 |
Intérprete | Eisley |
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