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

Звук


Интерфейс


Уровень сложности


Акцент



язык интерфейса

ru

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
зарегистрироваться / войти
Lyrkit

донат

5$

Lyrkit

донат

10$

Lyrkit

донат

20$

Lyrkit

Или поддержи меня в соц. сетях:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Joseph Arthur

Dirty Blvd.

 

Dirty Blvd.

(альбом: Lou - 2014)


Pedro lives out of the Wilshire Hotel
He looks out a window without glass
And the walls are made of cardboard, newspapers on his feet
And his father beats him 'cause he's too tired to beg

He's got nine brothers and sisters
They're brought up on their knees
It's hard to run when a coat hanger beats you on the thighs
Pedro dreams of being older and killing the old man
But that's a slim chance
He's going to the boulevard

He's gonna end up on the dirty boulevard
He's going out to the dirty boulevard
He's going down to the dirty boulevard

This room cost two thousand dollars a month
You can believe it, man, it's true
Somewhere there's a landlord's laughing till he wets his pants
No one dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything
They dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard

Give me your hungry, your tired, your poor I'll piss on 'em
That's what the Statue of Bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses
Let's club 'em to death
And get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard

He's gonna end up on the dirty boulevard
He's going out to the dirty boulevard
He's going down to the dirty boulevard

Outside it's a bright night
There's an opera at Lincoln Center
Movie stars arrive by limousine
The klieg lights shoot up over the skyline of Manhattan
But the lights are out on the mean streets

A small kid stands by the Lincoln Tunnel
He's selling plastic roses for a buck
The traffic's backed up to 39th Street
The TV whores are calling the cops out for a suck

And back at the Wilshire, Pedro sits there dreaming
He's found a book on Magic in a garbage can
He looks at the pictures
And stares up at the cracked ceiling
"At the count of 3," he says,
"I hope I can disappear"

And fly, fly away from this dirty boulevard
I wanna fly from the dirty boulevard
I wanna fly from the dirty boulevard
I wanna fly, fly, fly, fly from the dirty boulevard

Fly away
I wanna fly away
Fly away
I wanna fly, fly, fly away
I wanna fly away
I wanna fly away
I wanna fly away
I wanna fly away
I wanna fly away
From the dirty boulevard
From the dirty boulevard
I wanna fly
From the dirty boulevard
Fly, fly, fly

готово

Ты добавил себе все незнакомые слова из этой песни?