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  • 作词 : Harrison
    作曲 : HARRISON (GB) GEORGE
    They say they like it, now, but in the market it
    May not go well as it's too laid back.
    You need some oomph-papa, nothing like
    Frank zappa
    And not new wave they don't play that crap
    Tyr beating your head on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Don't have time for the music
    They want the blood from a clone
    I hear a clock ticking
    I feel the nitpicking
    I almost quit kicking at the wall
    There seems a confusion, under the illusion
    That they know just what will suit you all
    Beating my head on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Ain't got time for the music
    They want the blood from a clone
    There is no sense to it
    Pure pounds and pence to it
    They're so intense too makes me amazed
    Don't want no music but, they're making you
    Sick with
    Some awful noises that may get played
    By beating their heads on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Ain't no messing 'round with music
    Give them the blood from a clone
    Where will it all lead us
    I thought we had freed us
    From the mundane seems i'm wrong again
    Could be they lack roots, they're still wearing
    Jack boots they're
    Marching somewhere in the pouring rain
    Beating my head on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Don't have time for the music
    They want the blood from a clone
  • 作词 : Harrison
    作曲 : HARRISON (GB) GEORGE
    They say they like it, now, but in the market it
    May not go well as it's too laid back.
    You need some oomph-papa, nothing like
    Frank zappa
    And not new wave they don't play that crap
    Tyr beating your head on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Don't have time for the music
    They want the blood from a clone
    I hear a clock ticking
    I feel the nitpicking
    I almost quit kicking at the wall
    There seems a confusion, under the illusion
    That they know just what will suit you all
    Beating my head on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Ain't got time for the music
    They want the blood from a clone
    There is no sense to it
    Pure pounds and pence to it
    They're so intense too makes me amazed
    Don't want no music but, they're making you
    Sick with
    Some awful noises that may get played
    By beating their heads on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Ain't no messing 'round with music
    Give them the blood from a clone
    Where will it all lead us
    I thought we had freed us
    From the mundane seems i'm wrong again
    Could be they lack roots, they're still wearing
    Jack boots they're
    Marching somewhere in the pouring rain
    Beating my head on a brick wall
    Hard like a stone
    Don't have time for the music
    They want the blood from a clone