Ballad Of Tindersticks Lyrics

Song	Ballad Of Tindersticks
Artist	Tindersticks
Album	Curtains
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作曲 : David Boulter & Mark Colwill & Neil Fraser & Dickon Hinchliffe & Alistair McAuley &a
	作词 : Tindersticks
	The first time we flew it
	It was cheap and cramped
	The vodka running out half-way across the
	Atlantic Even the steward screamed and joined in it
	We didn't think we were going to make it
	Now we're stretched out in wide, furry seats
	Flicking through menus
	A walk to the bar and there's as much screw-top champagne as we can drink
	We're so easy
	Taking turns having our photos taken
	Sitting in front of smoked windows
	Decanters of cheap whiskey in our hands
	Drive into
	Manhattan on a date with a starlet who's just talent
	That's what people pay the money to see
	Who are we to argue?
	Five hours now it's been going on
	And still we're watching all of it
	Can you really believe all this?
	Can he really lie in bed at night and marvel at his own genius?
	When do you lose the ability to step back
	And get a sense of your own ridiculousness?
	They're only songs
	Midnight, and it's all over
	Now it can really make us laugh
	We're standing on our heads drinking sours of
	Crystel Schnapps
	Now we're unable to step back or step forward
	Swallowing a swallow
	Tasting it again, it's not so unpleasant
	Perhaps it's an acquired taste
	The first time, it makes you sick
	Then, bit by bit, it becomes delicious
	Showbiz people
	Always there to be interested in what you say
	We are artists; we are sensitive and important
	We nod our heads earnestly
	Already half-way down the champagne
	On our way to leaving the place dry
	A $2,000 bar bill
	Showbiz picks up the tab
	And we're on our way laughing
	Laughing at what?
	Los Angeles, eight days in
	And our sense of irony's running pretty thin
	All the friends we've made piano interlude not transcribed this time, sorry...just improvise
	It's 2 am, it's closing time at the
	Dresden Marty and
	Layton play one last sleepy "Strangers in the Night"
	And the last of the martinis dribble down our chins
	We're sitting, chasing the conservation around the table
	Jesus, how long have
	I been in this state?
	The limousine's still waiting outside
	Anything you want to do?
	Anywhere you want to go?
	We're on our way to the airport and a plane to
	Vegas So many nights lying in bed shaking
	Dreaming of pushing my daughter around the supermarket
	The joy of seeing all those colours and shapes reflect in her wide eyes
	My head leaning on the window
	And we're driving through the empty
	L.A. streets
	And everything seems silent and beautiful
	A guy's face hits the floor
	Police revolvers glistening in the streetlight
	Onto Melrose and lurching through a sea of
	Halloweeen transvestites
	The flight's cancelled, but it doesn't matter
	We turn this corner to a way that takes us wherever
	Up to Sunset
	We creep up the drive to the
	Shattuck The suite
	Belushi died in
	Or the one
	Morrison hung out the window
	Oh, I'll go for
	Jim's I would fancy a hotel window-hanging, myself, tonight, man
	Straight over to the mini-bar
	Open the champagne -- one sip and it's left to wake up to
	Anyone hungry?
	A team of uniformed waiters lay out an elaborate table for all us to ignore
	Oh, the irony
	How we're used to living
	Back in London on a cold
	Friday night
	Do you want another drink?
	Well, I could try
	Perhaps we could make it to the
	Atlantic 600 yeards, twenty minutes later
	We're pushing through the waiting crowd, all fish eyes
	An exclusive door policy
	Exclusively for arseholes
	And tonight?
	Well, a nod of our heads, and we're inside
	Falling down the red, velvety stairs
	Limbs flaying, hands searching for something to steady
	Pick ourselves up, nothing broken
	Just aches in the morning
	No one seems to notice
	I find a table, champagne arrives
	I've been so drunk,
	I sit and look at you
	We try and talk for the first time in a long time
	Drunken confession
	You shiver, it made you feel sick
	We use the rent money to pay the bill
	Bumping shoulders, we stumble out into
	Soho Slipping over the sleeping bags
	Shouting for taxis

	zuo qu : David Boulter Mark Colwill Neil Fraser Dickon Hinchliffe Alistair McAuley a
	zuo ci : Tindersticks
	The first time we flew it
	It was cheap and cramped
	The vodka running out halfway across the
	Atlantic Even the steward screamed and joined in it
	We didn' t think we were going to make it
	Now we' re stretched out in wide, furry seats
	Flicking through menus
	A walk to the bar and there' s as much screwtop champagne as we can drink
	We' re so easy
	Taking turns having our photos taken
	Sitting in front of smoked windows
	Decanters of cheap whiskey in our hands
	Drive into
	Manhattan on a date with a starlet who' s just talent
	That' s what people pay the money to see
	Who are we to argue?
	Five hours now it' s been going on
	And still we' re watching all of it
	Can you really believe all this?
	Can he really lie in bed at night and marvel at his own genius?
	When do you lose the ability to step back
	And get a sense of your own ridiculousness?
	They' re only songs
	Midnight, and it' s all over
	Now it can really make us laugh
	We' re standing on our heads drinking sours of
	Crystel Schnapps
	Now we' re unable to step back or step forward
	Swallowing a swallow
	Tasting it again, it' s not so unpleasant
	Perhaps it' s an acquired taste
	The first time, it makes you sick
	Then, bit by bit, it becomes delicious
	Showbiz people
	Always there to be interested in what you say
	We are artists we are sensitive and important
	We nod our heads earnestly
	Already halfway down the champagne
	On our way to leaving the place dry
	A 2, 000 bar bill
	Showbiz picks up the tab
	And we' re on our way laughing
	Laughing at what?
	Los Angeles, eight days in
	And our sense of irony' s running pretty thin
	All the friends we' ve made piano interlude not transcribed this time, sorry... just improvise
	It' s 2 am, it' s closing time at the
	Dresden Marty and
	Layton play one last sleepy " Strangers in the Night"
	And the last of the martinis dribble down our chins
	We' re sitting, chasing the conservation around the table
	Jesus, how long have
	I been in this state?
	The limousine' s still waiting outside
	Anything you want to do?
	Anywhere you want to go?
	We' re on our way to the airport and a plane to
	Vegas So many nights lying in bed shaking
	Dreaming of pushing my daughter around the supermarket
	The joy of seeing all those colours and shapes reflect in her wide eyes
	My head leaning on the window
	And we' re driving through the empty
	L. A. streets
	And everything seems silent and beautiful
	A guy' s face hits the floor
	Police revolvers glistening in the streetlight
	Onto Melrose and lurching through a sea of
	Halloweeen transvestites
	The flight' s cancelled, but it doesn' t matter
	We turn this corner to a way that takes us wherever
	Up to Sunset
	We creep up the drive to the
	Shattuck The suite
	Belushi died in
	Or the one
	Morrison hung out the window
	Oh, I' ll go for
	Jim' s I would fancy a hotel windowhanging, myself, tonight, man
	Straight over to the minibar
	Open the champagne one sip and it' s left to wake up to
	Anyone hungry?
	A team of uniformed waiters lay out an elaborate table for all us to ignore
	Oh, the irony
	How we' re used to living
	Back in London on a cold
	Friday night
	Do you want another drink?
	Well, I could try
	Perhaps we could make it to the
	Atlantic 600 yeards, twenty minutes later
	We' re pushing through the waiting crowd, all fish eyes
	An exclusive door policy
	Exclusively for arseholes
	And tonight?
	Well, a nod of our heads, and we' re inside
	Falling down the red, velvety stairs
	Limbs flaying, hands searching for something to steady
	Pick ourselves up, nothing broken
	Just aches in the morning
	No one seems to notice
	I find a table, champagne arrives
	I' ve been so drunk,
	I sit and look at you
	We try and talk for the first time in a long time
	Drunken confession
	You shiver, it made you feel sick
	We use the rent money to pay the bill
	Bumping shoulders, we stumble out into
	Soho Slipping over the sleeping bags
	Shouting for taxis

	zuò qǔ : David Boulter Mark Colwill Neil Fraser Dickon Hinchliffe Alistair McAuley a
	zuò cí : Tindersticks
	The first time we flew it
	It was cheap and cramped
	The vodka running out halfway across the
	Atlantic Even the steward screamed and joined in it
	We didn' t think we were going to make it
	Now we' re stretched out in wide, furry seats
	Flicking through menus
	A walk to the bar and there' s as much screwtop champagne as we can drink
	We' re so easy
	Taking turns having our photos taken
	Sitting in front of smoked windows
	Decanters of cheap whiskey in our hands
	Drive into
	Manhattan on a date with a starlet who' s just talent
	That' s what people pay the money to see
	Who are we to argue?
	Five hours now it' s been going on
	And still we' re watching all of it
	Can you really believe all this?
	Can he really lie in bed at night and marvel at his own genius?
	When do you lose the ability to step back
	And get a sense of your own ridiculousness?
	They' re only songs
	Midnight, and it' s all over
	Now it can really make us laugh
	We' re standing on our heads drinking sours of
	Crystel Schnapps
	Now we' re unable to step back or step forward
	Swallowing a swallow
	Tasting it again, it' s not so unpleasant
	Perhaps it' s an acquired taste
	The first time, it makes you sick
	Then, bit by bit, it becomes delicious
	Showbiz people
	Always there to be interested in what you say
	We are artists we are sensitive and important
	We nod our heads earnestly
	Already halfway down the champagne
	On our way to leaving the place dry
	A 2, 000 bar bill
	Showbiz picks up the tab
	And we' re on our way laughing
	Laughing at what?
	Los Angeles, eight days in
	And our sense of irony' s running pretty thin
	All the friends we' ve made piano interlude not transcribed this time, sorry... just improvise
	It' s 2 am, it' s closing time at the
	Dresden Marty and
	Layton play one last sleepy " Strangers in the Night"
	And the last of the martinis dribble down our chins
	We' re sitting, chasing the conservation around the table
	Jesus, how long have
	I been in this state?
	The limousine' s still waiting outside
	Anything you want to do?
	Anywhere you want to go?
	We' re on our way to the airport and a plane to
	Vegas So many nights lying in bed shaking
	Dreaming of pushing my daughter around the supermarket
	The joy of seeing all those colours and shapes reflect in her wide eyes
	My head leaning on the window
	And we' re driving through the empty
	L. A. streets
	And everything seems silent and beautiful
	A guy' s face hits the floor
	Police revolvers glistening in the streetlight
	Onto Melrose and lurching through a sea of
	Halloweeen transvestites
	The flight' s cancelled, but it doesn' t matter
	We turn this corner to a way that takes us wherever
	Up to Sunset
	We creep up the drive to the
	Shattuck The suite
	Belushi died in
	Or the one
	Morrison hung out the window
	Oh, I' ll go for
	Jim' s I would fancy a hotel windowhanging, myself, tonight, man
	Straight over to the minibar
	Open the champagne one sip and it' s left to wake up to
	Anyone hungry?
	A team of uniformed waiters lay out an elaborate table for all us to ignore
	Oh, the irony
	How we' re used to living
	Back in London on a cold
	Friday night
	Do you want another drink?
	Well, I could try
	Perhaps we could make it to the
	Atlantic 600 yeards, twenty minutes later
	We' re pushing through the waiting crowd, all fish eyes
	An exclusive door policy
	Exclusively for arseholes
	And tonight?
	Well, a nod of our heads, and we' re inside
	Falling down the red, velvety stairs
	Limbs flaying, hands searching for something to steady
	Pick ourselves up, nothing broken
	Just aches in the morning
	No one seems to notice
	I find a table, champagne arrives
	I' ve been so drunk,
	I sit and look at you
	We try and talk for the first time in a long time
	Drunken confession
	You shiver, it made you feel sick
	We use the rent money to pay the bill
	Bumping shoulders, we stumble out into
	Soho Slipping over the sleeping bags
	Shouting for taxis

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