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Artiste:
Spiritual Front
Titre:
Song For The Old Man
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"Song For The Old Man" How much sand in your booze? How much dry bread in your teeth? Everyday is the longest day Or maybe the day you will never forget. God didn't save you from the luck Of a rich, rich marriage Nor your dictator saved you from The big glorious war. But maybe you were saved just because You've never, never believed, No saint has guided your wrinkle hand Oh, when a hundred of whores has driven your shining cars. I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst... Twenty years in the tropics One hundred years of regrets, Life is too long to repent And too short to deify the bitterness. Your ironed shirt, your brushed hair, Your perfect dye go beyond Every political convinction against Every classfight. I loved your style and your hatred for, Your hatred for mediocrity, God will not give you a honoured place But he will envy your shined shoes. I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral... I will sing my worst... I will sing my worst... I will sing my worst... I will sing my worst... I will sing my worst southamerican song at your funeral, my old man, I will sing my worst... I will sing my worst... I will sing my worst...