| Song | All In The Name Of Rock 'n' Roll |
| Artist | Rod Stewart |
| Album | Atlantic Crossing [Deluxe Edition] |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Stewart | |
| Went downtown on the two forty-nine | |
| Play'n for recognition fo the New York town | |
| See, me and my boys, got a rock 'n' roll band | |
| They were so damn good, gonna lift up the man | |
| Well, we got ups, we got downs | |
| We got just so high 'til the sun goes down | |
| Got the ego, can be abused | |
| I got my two-toned shoes and I can sing the blues | |
| Look out kids, it's the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| And put your money where tyour mouth is or get our this place | |
| New York town is a meanass town | |
| We got a thousand bands, singin' underground | |
| Way down in New Orleans, it's the same old thing | |
| Emotion' I music a merry old thing | |
| Old king soul, he finally gave us a jolt | |
| He played the vibes till nine and read from ten to four | |
| He played upside down, he played inside out | |
| Then a uniform band, he was throen into jail | |
| Look out kids, it's the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| Put your money where your mouth is or get out this place | |
| Gettin' hungry, I know little woman | |
| Can't get a smell 'cause my nose is blocked | |
| I'm so high, I can't believe it | |
| Hotel dogs are knockin' on my door | |
| Two nights of singin' nearly out on the end | |
| Lift the parts red, oh, what a square | |
| As soon as the man, there's no sweeter song | |
| Listen McCartney, we're the band on the run | |
| Look out kids, it's the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| And put your money where your mouth is or get out this place | |
| Oh yeah |
| zuo ci : Stewart | |
| Went downtown on the two fortynine | |
| Play' n for recognition fo the New York town | |
| See, me and my boys, got a rock ' n' roll band | |
| They were so damn good, gonna lift up the man | |
| Well, we got ups, we got downs | |
| We got just so high ' til the sun goes down | |
| Got the ego, can be abused | |
| I got my twotoned shoes and I can sing the blues | |
| Look out kids, it' s the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| And put your money where tyour mouth is or get our this place | |
| New York town is a meanass town | |
| We got a thousand bands, singin' underground | |
| Way down in New Orleans, it' s the same old thing | |
| Emotion' I music a merry old thing | |
| Old king soul, he finally gave us a jolt | |
| He played the vibes till nine and read from ten to four | |
| He played upside down, he played inside out | |
| Then a uniform band, he was throen into jail | |
| Look out kids, it' s the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| Put your money where your mouth is or get out this place | |
| Gettin' hungry, I know little woman | |
| Can' t get a smell ' cause my nose is blocked | |
| I' m so high, I can' t believe it | |
| Hotel dogs are knockin' on my door | |
| Two nights of singin' nearly out on the end | |
| Lift the parts red, oh, what a square | |
| As soon as the man, there' s no sweeter song | |
| Listen McCartney, we' re the band on the run | |
| Look out kids, it' s the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| And put your money where your mouth is or get out this place | |
| Oh yeah |
| zuò cí : Stewart | |
| Went downtown on the two fortynine | |
| Play' n for recognition fo the New York town | |
| See, me and my boys, got a rock ' n' roll band | |
| They were so damn good, gonna lift up the man | |
| Well, we got ups, we got downs | |
| We got just so high ' til the sun goes down | |
| Got the ego, can be abused | |
| I got my twotoned shoes and I can sing the blues | |
| Look out kids, it' s the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| And put your money where tyour mouth is or get our this place | |
| New York town is a meanass town | |
| We got a thousand bands, singin' underground | |
| Way down in New Orleans, it' s the same old thing | |
| Emotion' I music a merry old thing | |
| Old king soul, he finally gave us a jolt | |
| He played the vibes till nine and read from ten to four | |
| He played upside down, he played inside out | |
| Then a uniform band, he was throen into jail | |
| Look out kids, it' s the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| Put your money where your mouth is or get out this place | |
| Gettin' hungry, I know little woman | |
| Can' t get a smell ' cause my nose is blocked | |
| I' m so high, I can' t believe it | |
| Hotel dogs are knockin' on my door | |
| Two nights of singin' nearly out on the end | |
| Lift the parts red, oh, what a square | |
| As soon as the man, there' s no sweeter song | |
| Listen McCartney, we' re the band on the run | |
| Look out kids, it' s the FBI | |
| We got a problem, you keep me high | |
| Put on your clothes, take the smile off your face | |
| And put your money where your mouth is or get out this place | |
| Oh yeah |