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POLICE

On Any Other Day

  classic rock  new wave  70s  pop  rock
220,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни POLICE - On Any Other Day

POLICE - On Any Other Day слова песни



Текст песни POLICE - On Any Other Day




Words and music by Stewart Copeland(spoken: The other ones are complete bullshit)(One Sunday morning)(? Should be: You want something corny?)You got it.( )There's a house on my streetAnd it looks real neatI'm the chap who lives in itThere's a tree on the sidewalkThere's a car by the doorI'll go for a drive in itAnd when the wombat comesHe will find me goneHe'll look for a place to sitMy wife has burned the scrambled eggsThe dog just bit my legMy teenage daughter ran awayMy fine young son has turned out gayCut off my fingers in theDoor of my carHow could I do it?My wife is proud to tell meOf her love affairsHow could she do this to me?My wife has burned the scrambled eggsThe dog just bit my legMy teenage daughter ran awayMy fine young son has turned out gayAnd it would be O.K. on any other dayAnd it would be O.K. on any other dayThrow down the morning papersAnd spill my teaI don't know what's wrong with meThe cups and plates are in aConspiracyI'm covered in miseryMy wife has burned the scrambled eggsThe dog just bit my legMy teenage daughter ran awayMy fine young son has turned out gayAnd it would be O.K. on any other dayAnd it would be O.K. on any other dayAnd it would be O.K. on any other day(repeat to fade)The Bed's Too Big Without You/ContactThe Bed's Too Big Without YouWords and music by StingBed's too big without youCold wind blows right thru' my open doorI can't sleep with your memoryDreaming dreams of what used to beWhen she left I was cold insideThat look on my face was just prideNo regrets no love no tearsLiving on my own was the least of my fearsBed's too big without youThe bed's too big without youThe bed's too bigWithout youSince that day when you'd goneJust had too (sic) carry onI get thru' day but late at nightMade love to my pillow but it didn't feel rightEvery day, just the sameOld rules for the same old gameAll I gained was heartacheAll I made was one mistakeNow the bed's too big without youThe bed's too big without youThe bed's too bigWithout you(Bed's too big without youThe bed's too big without youThe bed's too big without youWithout youWithout you)ContactWords and music by Stewart CopelandI've got a lump in my throat about the note you wroteI'd come on over but I haven't got a raincoatHave we got contactYou and me?Have we got touchdownCan't we be?I've got contacts in my book and in my eyesMy good connection on the telephone never liesHave we got contactYou and me?Have we got touchdownCan't we be?




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