Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Klang


Schnittstelle


Schwierigkeitsgrad


Akzent



Schnittstellensprache

de

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
registrieren / anmelden
Lyrkit

spenden

5$

Lyrkit

spenden

10$

Lyrkit

spenden

20$

Lyrkit

Und/oder mich im sozialen Bereich unterstützen. Netzwerke:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Grace Jones

The Apple Stretching

 

The Apple Stretching

(Album: Living My Life - 1982)


The sun comes swaggering across the harbour,
And kisses the lady waiting in the narrows,
She already plenty shaky stands there,
Blushing, clutching the torch of liberty,
Uptown Luigi who don't speak english so good,
Is having an accident,
Backing his dumptruck into the fence,
The tin cans go clattering down the lane,
A drowsy bum thinks its thunder,
And pulls the news over his head to stop the rain.

No, it ain't judgement day,
No, it ain't Armageddon,
It's just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning.

New York putting it's feet on the floor,
It's just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
New York putting it's feet on the floor.

Suburban refugees fleeing the cracked cisterns,
Worm ridden fruit trees stream out Grand Central,
Please to be breathing bagels and pollution.

In Time Square new graffiti, old revolutions,
A bag lady is cursing the waiter for giving her a free coffee
Lucky he's a Jesus freak moonlighting,
At the Acme discount store over in Queens,
The burglar alarm starts to scream,
A cop picks out his gun fires one and yells, "FREEZE!".

No, it ain't World War Four,
No, it ain't World War Four,
It's just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
New York putting its feet on the floor.

Nearby the Hudson a hooker makes a 'U',
To help a blind man to his pew in the park,
Some long ago home training jars the memory,
The bag lady says 'Thank you' and curties.

The herd of beaten tourists limp homeward,
Having bitten off more than they could chew,
Moaning them old big city blues,
Miss Liberty depicts her qualms and grins,
Another subway starts rattling,
And Luigi's cans go clattering down the hill.

No, it ain't some kind of ill wind,
No, it ain't the world coming to an end,
Just the apple stretching and yawning, just morning,
New York putting its feet on the floor.

Erledigt

Hast du alle unbekannten Wörter aus diesem Lied hinzugefügt?