I wish I was big I wish I was tall I wish I had houses Instead of this hall Somebody put me Inside it one day I know who it is But he won't let me say
He can't take the street no more Street too full, full of junk Thinks he'll hide in his room Room too full, full of junk He turns on his TV, TV full,
I stand it all and I shake my face You break your promise all over the place You promised to love me but what do I see? Just you comin' and spillin' juice
Your pillow wasn't slept upon your closet was empty too. All of your clothes and things were gone. There wasn't a trace of you. How could you go and leave
When I was a kid, I had a little record I played it over and over, each and every day Sung by a man, named Louie Armstrong Saint's marched right in from
I ain't blue, yet hell I ain't even sick But this big ol' bark sure sounds worse than its stink Thick like dipsticks and white as a sheet But for a pile
Motorcars Handlebars Bicycles for two Broken hearted jubilee Parachutes Army boots Sleeping bags for two Na na na na na jamboree Buy, buy Motorcars
Your pillow wasn't slept upon Your closet was empty too All of your clothes and things were gone There wasn't a trace of you How could you go and leave
You can hire and fire, wheel and deal Run your streets with a fist of steel But you're small potatoes Strictly nickel and dime, nickel and dime Small
Junkies all around you, junkies everywhere. Junkies on the corner, Junkies in your head. Look around fast enough, you might see one in you. Look around
The need to realize Shot, shot, shot, blank Staring down the barrel of my arm Shot, shot, shot, dead It's over drawn black Shot, shot, shot, red No restrictions
He can't take the street no more Street too full full of junk Thinks he'll hide in his room Room too full full of junk He turns to his t.v. t.v. full
Why can't you see That this is how our love was meant to be? I'll never understand why you are putting me down Ruining everything And when I'm looking
Motor cars, handle bars Bicycles for two Broken hearted jubilee Parachutes, army boots Sleeping bags for two Sentimental jamboree Buy! Buy! Says the
Motorcars, handlebars, bicycles for two Brokenhearted jubilee Parachutes, army boots, sleeping bags for two Sentimental jamboree Buy, Buy says the sign
~~~~~ He thought he was putting his things in the right place Everything had a name and everything had a place But now there's so much of this stuff around
I always looked up to the ones who walked away Choosing themselves over preset ways Of looking at a future that had no room for the questions they lived
Elle vendait dans ma rue des trucs qui n'servent a rien Des spheres en plastique qu'on retourne sans fin Pour voir une Tour Eiffel sous une neige imbecile