From a Dead Beat to An Old Greaser (2002 Remaster)
๐ต 902 characters
โฑ๏ธ 4:07 duration
๐ ID: 9469119
๐ Lyrics
From a dead beat to an old greaser, here's thinking of you.
You won't remember the long nights;
coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
in shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made
of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them).
When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I.
And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture ---
sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker,
Jack Kerouac, Ren\'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
who were too wise for their own good --- left the young brood to
go on living without them.
Old queers with young faces --- who remember your name,
though you're a dead beat with tired feet;
two ends that don't meet.
To a dead beat from an old greaser.
Think you must have me all wrong.
I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend,
If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again.
You won't remember the long nights;
coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
in shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made
of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them).
When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I.
And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture ---
sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker,
Jack Kerouac, Ren\'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
who were too wise for their own good --- left the young brood to
go on living without them.
Old queers with young faces --- who remember your name,
though you're a dead beat with tired feet;
two ends that don't meet.
To a dead beat from an old greaser.
Think you must have me all wrong.
I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend,
If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again.
โฑ๏ธ Synced Lyrics
[00:04.26] From a dead beat to an old greaser, here's thinking of you.
[00:23.41] You won't remember the long nights;
[00:31.87] coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
[00:44.81] in shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made
[00:55.76] of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them).
[01:14.39] When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I.
[01:30.80] And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture ---
[01:39.57] sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker,
[01:52.51] Jack Kerouac, Ren\'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
[02:09.24] who were too wise for their own good --- left the young brood to
[02:18.21] go on living without them.
[02:48.42] Old queers with young faces --- who remember your name,
[03:12.58] though you're a dead beat with tired feet;
[03:21.21] two ends that don't meet.
[03:29.86] To a dead beat from an old greaser.
[03:38.25] Think you must have me all wrong.
[03:46.86] I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend,
[03:55.05] If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again.
[04:04.98]
[00:23.41] You won't remember the long nights;
[00:31.87] coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
[00:44.81] in shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made
[00:55.76] of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them).
[01:14.39] When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I.
[01:30.80] And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture ---
[01:39.57] sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker,
[01:52.51] Jack Kerouac, Ren\'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
[02:09.24] who were too wise for their own good --- left the young brood to
[02:18.21] go on living without them.
[02:48.42] Old queers with young faces --- who remember your name,
[03:12.58] though you're a dead beat with tired feet;
[03:21.21] two ends that don't meet.
[03:29.86] To a dead beat from an old greaser.
[03:38.25] Think you must have me all wrong.
[03:46.86] I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend,
[03:55.05] If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again.
[04:04.98]