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Artiste:
Robyn Hitchcock
Titre:
Brenda's Iron Sledge
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We head downhill Our hands fly back Our fingers freeze Our hair falls out, our hair falls out Our fingers freeze Our hair falls out The iron piston pumps and spouts The steaming air as hot as sprouts Ah, all aboard Brenda's iron sledge All aboard Brenda's iron sledge The ones on top are comfortable They're sitting on a human chain, A human chain They're sitting on a human chain Their limbs, compressed in icy slush, Are freezing in a raw meat groove Ah, all aboard Brenda's iron sledge All aboard Brenda's iron sledge Please don't call me Reg It's not my name The bodies rear the bucking sled Which hits a tree And falls asleep, and falls asleep Which hits a tree And that is that The grasshoppers curl up and burst And Brenda shovels on the wurst Ah, all aboard Brenda's iron sledge All aboard Brenda's iron sledge Please don't call me Reg It's not my name All aboard Brenda's iron sledge All aboard Brenda's iron sledge All aboard Brenda's iron sledge Please don't call me Reg It's not my name