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Monkey Suit

The Union专辑

  • 作词 : John Taupin
    作曲 : John Taupin
    If you're looking for the glory
    You think that you might find
    In a bullet-riddled stolen car
    On a back road in the pines
    If it's round just like a medal
    On a tired old man of war
    Or hidden like that
    Burma Star
    In my dad's bottom drawer
    Look at you in your monkey suit
    Driving south, nothing left to prove
    You come back here in your cowboy boots
    Dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Every pose you strike, every frame they shoot
    Shows you dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Build your ladder to the moon
    Beat on that sacred drum
    Trample on the hands of those
    That cling to every rung
    Every seed you crush beneath
    Like stone ground in a mill
    You never drew a decent breath
    But you're just dressed to kill
    Look at you in your monkey suit
    Driving south, nothing left to prove
    You come back here in your cowboy boots
    Dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Every pose you strike, every frame they shoot
    Shows you dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Look at you in your monkey suit
    Driving south, nothing left to prove
    You come back here in your cowboy boots
    Dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Every pose you strike, every frame they shoot
    Shows you dressed to kill in your monkey suit
  • 作词 : John Taupin
    作曲 : John Taupin
    If you're looking for the glory
    You think that you might find
    In a bullet-riddled stolen car
    On a back road in the pines
    If it's round just like a medal
    On a tired old man of war
    Or hidden like that
    Burma Star
    In my dad's bottom drawer
    Look at you in your monkey suit
    Driving south, nothing left to prove
    You come back here in your cowboy boots
    Dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Every pose you strike, every frame they shoot
    Shows you dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Build your ladder to the moon
    Beat on that sacred drum
    Trample on the hands of those
    That cling to every rung
    Every seed you crush beneath
    Like stone ground in a mill
    You never drew a decent breath
    But you're just dressed to kill
    Look at you in your monkey suit
    Driving south, nothing left to prove
    You come back here in your cowboy boots
    Dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Every pose you strike, every frame they shoot
    Shows you dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Look at you in your monkey suit
    Driving south, nothing left to prove
    You come back here in your cowboy boots
    Dressed to kill in your monkey suit
    Every pose you strike, every frame they shoot
    Shows you dressed to kill in your monkey suit