0:004:29
At Oslo aus dem Studio
SWAN
She was hanging 'round, between the shouts, waiting for him to disappear,
He just made his sounds, to heal the wounds, her charming smile cut into the air.
Oh, don’t they know? The neighbour cries in sleep cause its his
Song they stole, now he ain’t never gonna get into a fight no more.
Bill tried to refill his empty glass the second time in a whiskybar,
He was feeling ill because of jill, who didn’t care ‘bout modern art.
Oh, don’t he know? Bartender cries in silence, it’s his
Song he stole, now he’s never givin a damn about a difference at all.
All the stories they write on their ways they can’t find,
I can’t read, I can’t speak…
And all the letters they wrote on the ways they didn’t go,
When will they write about me?
Get lost in Pokerdust, no hope but trust, last of his money changed it’s place,
Games are made to play, and bills to pay, one has to loose all daddy's got.
Oh, don’t he know? Old eagle cries in joy cause its his song,
He stole, now he’s never going to lose a game at all.
All the stories they write on their ways they can’t find,
I can’t read, I can’t speak…
And all the poems they wrote on the ways they didn’t go,
When will they write about me?
All the stories they write on their ways they can’t find,
I can’t read, I can’t speak…
And all the poems they wrote on the ways they didn’t go,
When will they write about me?
She was hanging 'round, between the shouts, waiting for him to disappear,
He just made his sounds, to heal the wounds, her charming smile cut into the air.
Oh, don’t they know? The neighbour cries in sleep cause its his
Song they stole, now he ain’t never gonna get into a fight no more.
Bill tried to refill his empty glass the second time in a whiskybar,
He was feeling ill because of jill, who didn’t care ‘bout modern art.
Oh, don’t he know? Bartender cries in silence, it’s his
Song he stole, now he’s never givin a damn about a difference at all.
All the stories they write on their ways they can’t find,
I can’t read, I can’t speak…
And all the letters they wrote on the ways they didn’t go,
When will they write about me?
Get lost in Pokerdust, no hope but trust, last of his money changed it’s place,
Games are made to play, and bills to pay, one has to loose all daddy's got.
Oh, don’t he know? Old eagle cries in joy cause its his song,
He stole, now he’s never going to lose a game at all.
All the stories they write on their ways they can’t find,
I can’t read, I can’t speak…
And all the poems they wrote on the ways they didn’t go,
When will they write about me?
All the stories they write on their ways they can’t find,
I can’t read, I can’t speak…
And all the poems they wrote on the ways they didn’t go,
When will they write about me?
