Song | Ugly Head |
Artist | Marc Almond |
Album | Vermin in Ermine |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Almond | |
Oh i bet your life | |
You're sick of the sight | |
Of those eat in, take out, throw up pizza bars | |
Love's just got to pass your way in time | |
You smell of prison, smell of crime | |
I just didn't want to say i told you so | |
Someone called "hey yesterday boy!" | |
Take your well worn body away from my sight | |
Friends run like rats from a sinking ship | |
Leaving you naked to the night | |
Now you're known as the last resort | |
By the vultures on the make | |
They say | |
'you have to eat the hamburger | |
To appreciate the steak' | |
You always feel the sting of words | |
As children are so cruel | |
They called you ugly, ugly head | |
When you were at school | |
You've tried to make the best of things | |
But it seems you've given in | |
They call you ugly, ugly head | |
Something makes you feel the living sin | |
Things must feel so insecure | |
When you're on your last legs | |
You're swimming in the coffee pot | |
Drowning in the dregs | |
But you haven't got the sense to die | |
(or get a decent job) | |
To look into a mirror | |
Or at the very worst some kind of god | |
You need something to believe in | |
I just wish it was yourself | |
Try to summon up the guts | |
To rectify your ailing health | |
For there's something round the corner | |
Waiting just out of sight | |
That'll stop you feeling low and limp | |
And naked to the night | |
You always feel the sting of words | |
As children are so cruel | |
They called you ugly, ugly head | |
When you were at school | |
You've tried to make the best of things | |
But it seems you've given in | |
They call you ugly, ugly head | |
Something makes you feel the living sin | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly head! |
zuo ci : Almond | |
Oh i bet your life | |
You' re sick of the sight | |
Of those eat in, take out, throw up pizza bars | |
Love' s just got to pass your way in time | |
You smell of prison, smell of crime | |
I just didn' t want to say i told you so | |
Someone called " hey yesterday boy!" | |
Take your well worn body away from my sight | |
Friends run like rats from a sinking ship | |
Leaving you naked to the night | |
Now you' re known as the last resort | |
By the vultures on the make | |
They say | |
' you have to eat the hamburger | |
To appreciate the steak' | |
You always feel the sting of words | |
As children are so cruel | |
They called you ugly, ugly head | |
When you were at school | |
You' ve tried to make the best of things | |
But it seems you' ve given in | |
They call you ugly, ugly head | |
Something makes you feel the living sin | |
Things must feel so insecure | |
When you' re on your last legs | |
You' re swimming in the coffee pot | |
Drowning in the dregs | |
But you haven' t got the sense to die | |
or get a decent job | |
To look into a mirror | |
Or at the very worst some kind of god | |
You need something to believe in | |
I just wish it was yourself | |
Try to summon up the guts | |
To rectify your ailing health | |
For there' s something round the corner | |
Waiting just out of sight | |
That' ll stop you feeling low and limp | |
And naked to the night | |
You always feel the sting of words | |
As children are so cruel | |
They called you ugly, ugly head | |
When you were at school | |
You' ve tried to make the best of things | |
But it seems you' ve given in | |
They call you ugly, ugly head | |
Something makes you feel the living sin | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly head! |
zuò cí : Almond | |
Oh i bet your life | |
You' re sick of the sight | |
Of those eat in, take out, throw up pizza bars | |
Love' s just got to pass your way in time | |
You smell of prison, smell of crime | |
I just didn' t want to say i told you so | |
Someone called " hey yesterday boy!" | |
Take your well worn body away from my sight | |
Friends run like rats from a sinking ship | |
Leaving you naked to the night | |
Now you' re known as the last resort | |
By the vultures on the make | |
They say | |
' you have to eat the hamburger | |
To appreciate the steak' | |
You always feel the sting of words | |
As children are so cruel | |
They called you ugly, ugly head | |
When you were at school | |
You' ve tried to make the best of things | |
But it seems you' ve given in | |
They call you ugly, ugly head | |
Something makes you feel the living sin | |
Things must feel so insecure | |
When you' re on your last legs | |
You' re swimming in the coffee pot | |
Drowning in the dregs | |
But you haven' t got the sense to die | |
or get a decent job | |
To look into a mirror | |
Or at the very worst some kind of god | |
You need something to believe in | |
I just wish it was yourself | |
Try to summon up the guts | |
To rectify your ailing health | |
For there' s something round the corner | |
Waiting just out of sight | |
That' ll stop you feeling low and limp | |
And naked to the night | |
You always feel the sting of words | |
As children are so cruel | |
They called you ugly, ugly head | |
When you were at school | |
You' ve tried to make the best of things | |
But it seems you' ve given in | |
They call you ugly, ugly head | |
Something makes you feel the living sin | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly, ugly, ugly | |
Ugly head! |