Текст песни The Whitlams - You Gotta Love This City
The Whitlams - You Gotta Love This City слова песни
You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this cityYou gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city Too sick for breakfast, the car wouldn`t startThe train was really full, and his girlfriend had a boyfriendThe houses all the same, now here`s the rainNot falling but collapsing at his feetDeep breath and he clocks on, raincoat on his armHe wishes the hours would disappear But the trip`s in vain `cause awaiting himA lay-off notice and his severance payHe shuffles back to the train againYou gotta love this city You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this cityYou gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city Back home he lies in bed for days and daysWatching American television, smokingAnd playing with himself ringing double-O double-5Into town on Thursday nightThe girls are pretty and the lights are brightAt least he loves his city Holding court on Taylor Square proper was the man he could becomeLear`s Fool is a bum nowWith seven holy parcels by his side You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this cityYou gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city He walks along the foreshore, he`s got a bottleAnd he`s breathing with his city It was busy everywhere he wentThere was a crowd over the bayAnd a fireworks displayIt`s all very strange for a Thursday night thought heThen it dawns on him as a cracker explodesAnd who the hell is he going to blame?It dawns on him - the horror - we got the Olympic Games You gotta love this city for its body and not its brain And he screams "My city is a whore, opened herself to the worldJumped up and down in pastel shirtsAnd lathered up thinking about designs for T-shirts" You gotta love this city for its body and not its brain It`s more than he can take, and the stars` reflection breaks`Cause you can lead a horse to water, but you can`t make it enjoy the viewYou gotta love this cityHe`s had enough and he sinks to the bottom Words and music by Tim FreedmanProduced by Rob Taylor and Tim FreedmanMixed and engineered by Rob TaylorVocal, Rhodes electric piano - Tim FreedmanBacking vocals - Marcia HinesHammond organ - Clayton DoleyGuitar - Mark PunchFlute, congas, tabla - BabsMarimba - Jess CiampaBass - Jackie OrszaczkyDrums, bells - Hamish Stuart