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

Sunet


Interfață


Nivel de dificultate


Accent



limbajul interfeței

ro

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
înregistrare/autentificare
Lyrkit

Donează

5$

Lyrkit

Donează

10$

Lyrkit

Donează

20$

Lyrkit

Și/sau susține-mă în social. retelelor:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Golden Earring

42nd Street

 

42nd Street

(album: Paradise In Distress - 1999)


Spiraling leapers, wearing Nike sneakers
Some of them laugh, some of them sing
Some of them don't do a goddamn thing
Trip-skipping drifters, grafters and lifters
Chicks with big tits, school boys with zits
Moonlight circus of earthly delights
Pimpmobile cruising the soft velvet night
Deals going down, midnight in town
Down into the subways, the underground tunnels
A musician is playing, a drunk stumbles and mumbles
Out in the park it's scary with frights
Somebody shot out all the streetlights

Hookers and bookies, floozies and boozers
All kinds of misfits, perverts and losers
Out of the limo that looks like a boat
The pimp steps out in a mink fur coat
Sporting a Fedora, that creates its own aura
A ruby-tooth grin and a diamond stick pin
A deal's going down this side of town

People walk on fleet feet
On the way down 42nd Street
Except for the bums, down for the count
That one's dead but no one's found out
And look at the bitch, with her dress up ass
When she moves that thing, she must move it fast
Cop with a nightstick, checking around
A neon lit junkie slides to the ground
Here comes a flasher, a jogger, a punk
Check out that guy, drunk as a skunk
Blinking, reflection, lights melt in the rain
The sidewalks are empty, nothing's the same
4 A.M. people are crashing
Where the hookers are huddled
Colored raindrops are splashing
The deals have gone down, the bimbo's split town
Burned from the hustle, burned from the hype
But under the lights, I'm feeling alright
On 42nd Street, it's just another night

Terminat

Ai adăugat toate cuvintele necunoscute din această melodie?