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• Artiste: Peter Doherty
• Titre: Ed Belly
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That's one, two, one, two, three, four I said, "Ed Belly watched telly in a highway motel room" Well, he felt at ease in the tat and sleaze in the neon midnight gloom For so long, every song in his heart and in his head He fantasized, romanticized, the lonesome life he led Well, he sang about anti-heroes, drifters, weirdos, big dreamers from small towns Cyberpunks, grifters, drunks, and retired rodeo clowns The dispossessed, the dissipated, the desperate, and the damned Well, the lower the dog, the higher the cat, the more he loved their band And for years, he waited with bated breath Through clouds of skag and crystal meth He waits so patiently for death With the quick and the unbruised With sunken eyes, he scanned the earth His head down so low, his neck did hurt It's a small wonder his spine's not curved Kept his head so low Yes, but all the while, his ears were tingling For troubled souls have a song worth singing Yeah, Hell's bells were ding-a-linging all along the road I said, "All, all along that road"