The Sundays: My Finest Hour
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The Sundays: My Finest Hour
And the world it shows me up
My clothes they show me up
I never knew this before
My finest hour that I've ever known
Was finding a pound on the underground
And my words came stumbling out
Then I went tumbling out
I've never been hit before
And the finest hour that I've ever known
Was finding a pound on the underground
And I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are, what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me
So show me the way to go home
And the words came stumbling out of my mouth
And then I went tumbling out...
But I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me so show me the way to go
Oh, I'm going home
But I'll keep hoping you are the only one
Yes and I'll send you letters, wouldn't it be such fun?
We are who we are whatever the others say
But poetry is not for me
And much as I'd like to stay
Oh, I just want to go home
You're, you're, you're too young
Should've been you, you're, you're too young
It should've been you too, you're too, you're too young
It should've been you you you're too young
You should've been safer, saner
Bribed the judge and then sat down
Ooh you're, you're, you're too young
My clothes they show me up
I never knew this before
My finest hour that I've ever known
Was finding a pound on the underground
And my words came stumbling out
Then I went tumbling out
I've never been hit before
And the finest hour that I've ever known
Was finding a pound on the underground
And I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are, what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me
So show me the way to go home
And the words came stumbling out of my mouth
And then I went tumbling out...
But I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea
We are who we are what do the others know?
But poetry is not for me so show me the way to go
Oh, I'm going home
But I'll keep hoping you are the only one
Yes and I'll send you letters, wouldn't it be such fun?
We are who we are whatever the others say
But poetry is not for me
And much as I'd like to stay
Oh, I just want to go home
You're, you're, you're too young
Should've been you, you're, you're too young
It should've been you too, you're too, you're too young
It should've been you you you're too young
You should've been safer, saner
Bribed the judge and then sat down
Ooh you're, you're, you're too young
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The Sundays: My Finest Hour
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The Sundays: My Finest Hour
-
Joy
- The Sundays
-
I Feel
- The Sundays
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Goodbye
- The Sundays
-
More
- The Sundays
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On Earth
- The Sundays
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„Czy coś mnie chwyci tak jak wcześniej? Chodzę tyłem jakiś dłuższy czas Mniej mi w oczy wieje wiatr Kto złapie mnie za drżącą rękę? Jestem tu na krótką chwilę jak Bluza metr czterdzieści dwa ”
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„Jebać tych skrajnie z lewej i jebać tych skrajnie z prawej Wykurwiaj jak jesteś zjebem, co myśli że ma monopol na prawdę Nie chce żyć z butem na gardle, pierdole wasz mentalny karcer Po jednej komu”
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Wonderful
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„You keep trying he's so wonderful If you lie and let it go, if you want my soul Second to come dare us to stay And one day I'mma stay The others just played I was stuck in their days Please do”
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Miodożer
Genzie
„Kiedy wokół wielki lwy Ja muszę być jak miodożer Pokazuję kły i napieram jak buldożer Nic ci nie pomoże Nic ci nie pomoże Wielkie lwy, ich wielkie kły Nie są straszne mi Nie są straszne mi W”
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Suma wszystkich strachów
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