Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 7:01 | ||||
Lady dancing on a Tulip Pirouetting in the sunset Let me be your next cigarette. Church bells, played by a penguin Bearded priest who walks like chaplin, I must fly like a swallow tonight. Chinese rice paper poet Dips his paintbrush in the silence Of the lake which mirrors the sky. Milkmaids waltz around the haystack when the maestro blows his trumpet. Bandsmen hammer at the cafe for the gypsy's drawbridge bottle. Choir boys pull on the zig-zag Of the monkey's dream piano. Fish eat stolen keys in rivers Where the wooden legs go sailing. Clocks join hands to dance the polka. Sweep the carpet under the carpet Promenade the Puzzle. |
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2. |
| 4:47 | ||||
3. |
| 6:56 | ||||
4. |
| 7:28 | ||||
5. |
| 2:37 | ||||
6. |
| 7:53 | ||||
7. |
| 4:02 | ||||
8. |
| 5:32 | ||||
9. |
| 5:20 | ||||
Shiny shoes, he runs to catch the train Rockets launched if he is late again Pushed and squeezed on the sardine machine To his Mr. Nine till Five routine. Filing piling on his desk all day In and out from tray to endless tray; Tea and biscuits secretary's legs Luncheon daydreams over curried eggs. Yes sir, no sir, on the squawking phone, Five o'clock rush-hour exhausted home. T.V., bedtime and excite the wife Set the clock get up repeat through life. Mr. Nine till Five ... Down on his knees for the weekend. All too soon it's Sunday afternoon Post the pools and watch the 'Box' till ten Shuts his eyes, wakes up it's Monday again ... |
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10. |
| 6:38 | ||||
cerco il sole ma non c'... Dorme ancora la campagna, forse no, sveglia, mi guarda, non so. Gi l'odore della terra odor di grano, sale adagio verso me. e la vita nel mio petto batte piano, respira la nebbia, penso a te. Quanto verde tutto intorno a ancor pi in l, sembra quasi un mare l'erba, e leggero il mio pensiero vola e va ho quasi paura che si perda... Un cavallo tende il collo verso il prato resta fermo come me: faccio un passo, lui mi vede, gi fuggito... Respiro la nebbia, penso a te. No, cosa sono adesso non lo so sono come, un uomo in cerca di se stesso no, cosa sono adesso non lo so sono solo, solo il suono del mio passo... Ma intanto il sole tra la nebbia filtra gi: il giorno come sempre sar. |
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11. |
| 8:10 | ||||
You're into fashion Oh, yeah, but I'm into jeans You're into martinis But I'm into pop machines CHORUS You love romantic nights But honey, love and satin sheets just ain't for me 'Cause you know what I love I love, you love, we love whipped cream-whipped cream I want, you want, we want whipped cream-squire me, baby! I love, you love, we love whipped cream-whipped cream You're into sports cars Oh, yeah, but I'd rather drive a truck You'd rather make love Oh, yeah, but I'd rather... CHORUS |
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12. |
| - | ||||