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Текст песни jefferson airplane - Lather

jefferson airplane - Lather слова песни




Lather was thirty years old today,They took away all of his toys.His mother sent newspaper clippings to him,About his old friends who`d stopped being boys.There was Harwitz E. Green, just turned thirty-three,His leather chair waits at the bank.And Seargent Dow Jones, twenty-seven years old,Commanding his very own tank.But Lather still finds it a nice thing to do,To lie about nude in the sand,Drawing pictures of mountains that look like bumps,And thrashing the air with his hands.But wait, oh Lather`s productive you know,He produces the finest of sound,Putting drumsticks on either side of his nose,Snorting the best licks in town,But that`s all over...Lather was thirty years old today,And Lather came foam from his tongue.He looked at me eyes wide and plainly said,Is it true that I`m no longer young?And the children call him famous,what the old men call insane,And sometimes he`s so nameless,That he hardly knows which game to play...Which words to say...And I should have told him, "No, you`re not old."And I should have let him go on...smiling...babywide.

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