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

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Sting

50,000

 

50,000

(album: 57th & 9th - 2016)


Another obituary in the paper today
One more for the list of those who've already fallen
Another one of our comrades is taken down
Like so many others of our calling

We tweet our anecdotes, our commentary
Or we sing his songs in some sad tribute
While the tabloids are holding a story of kiss and tell
That he's no longer able to deny or refute

50,000 voices rising every time he'd sing
And every word he ever wrote reflecting back to him

How well I remember the stadiums we played
And the lights sweeping across a sea of 50,000 souls we'd face
A serious drug that you could never kick
Or one that you couldn't imagine you'd ever replace

We flew like kites on the wings of amphetamine
Secured only to a bass line and a snare drum beat
But really what did any of it mean?
When there's a higher philosophy in reflection and defeat

50,000 voices rising every time he'd sing
And every word he ever wrote reflecting back to him
Still believing that old lie, the one that your own face betrays
Rock stars don't ever die, they only fade away

Reflecting now on my own past
Inside this prison I've made of myself
I'm feeling a little better today
Although the bathroom mirror is telling me something else

These lines of stress, one bloodshot eye
The unhealthy pallor of a troubled ghost
Where did I put my spectacle case?
I'm half blind and as deaf as any post

50,000 hands are raised to a man that's just like you and me
We create the gods we can and gift them immortality
Still believing that old lie, the one that your own face betrays
Rock stars don't ever die, they only fade away

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?