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  • 曲谱信息
  • 歌词
  • 标题:Put A Penny In The Slot

    副标题:(吉他社www.jitashe.net)

    艺人:Fionn Regan

    专辑:The End of History

    作曲:Regan

    标记:VerseChorusVerseChorusVerseChorusBridgeVerseChorus
    歌词:
    I apologise,
    seem to have arrived,
    On what items in my bag from your house.
    There's cutlery,
    a tablecloth, some Hennessy,
    And a book on Presidents deceased.
    I'll have them fed-exed to you,
    It was a strange thing to do,
    I hope we can still be friends.
    Ah, it was not me,
    but someone else, you see,
    Twisting the steering reins.

    Put a penny in the slot and make an
    artificial li-ii-iight shine,
    Leave go-ooo. Mark old and line.

    I don't give advise,
    But be wise and think twice,
    Before getting involved in a game.
    Where the minority
    Face the majority,
    Who are faceless and born without names.
    Was it knock synch when
    we came across three men,
    They had church candles wrapped in newspaper.
    I bought two from them,
    And I'll lit one for you,
    I hope the message made it's way down the wire.

    Put a penny in the slot and make an
    artificial li-ii-iight shine,
    Leave go-ooo. Mark old and line.

    The soul of a dog,
    he's alive and not gone
    To the farm like the others said.
    A Rhodesian richback,
    Off the beaten track,
    In a furniture shop down on the quays.
    For the lonliness you foster,
    I suggest Paul Oster,
    A book called Timbuktu.

    Put a penny in the slot and watch the
    Drunken sailor boy dance.
    She will not let you be
    Her lov-ver.
    She goes out looking for
    The taxi.
    Her phone is ringing straight to
    Message-minder.
    Send out a battalion to
    Find her.

    Put a penny in the slot and count the
    Swans through a te-elescope.
    I can't help from cryin'
    I wish you were mine.

    When I was seventeen,
    I followed my dream,
    Up into a high-rise block.
    The adventures of Augie March,
    By Saul Bel-low,
    Was all I had for company.
    At night time I'd lie
    In Beckingham pike,
    With tears like flashbulbs.
    And recall my treasure-
    Searching days,
    In the rock pools as a kid.

    To the remains of
    The cherub plains,
    Or around the bonfire in Nailors’ cove.
    Good company and grief
    Sit like a dark leaf,
    Sits beside a singing nett-le.

    Put a penny in the slot and make an
    artificial li-ii-iight shi-iine,
    Leave go-ooo. My golden arm

    (Thanks to Seaders for these lyrics)
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