| 作曲 : John Entwistle | |
| 作词 : Entwistle | |
| Up here on the ledge | |
| I'm getting pushed to the edge | |
| People line up behind me to step into my shoes, | |
| Up here in the precipice | |
| I'm getting close to my nemesis | |
| People fighting each other to jump into my blues | |
| There's a young kid inside me somewhere | |
| He stays up all night, a vampire that never dies, | |
| With the blood and the moon in his eyes | |
| I hear his voice when I'm comin' down, | |
| Sleep is for fools, whe never see the sunrise, | |
| Who never get to live twice. | |
| I was a face in a magazine, | |
| When you were still playin' with your plasticine, | |
| Now you're doggin' my tail, ridin' the slipstream, | |
| You can take the fans and the enemies | |
| The little girls who squeeze and tease | |
| Then pass on their social disease, | |
| Go get your penicillin. | |
| I know you young and dumb, | |
| I know where you're comin' from. | |
| Don't know where you're goin' to, | |
| But I bin there same as you, | |
| You're running out of ideas, | |
| And new hats to try on. | |
| I know you middle age | |
| Same song, different page, | |
| I know what you're goin' through | |
| Made the same mistakes as you, | |
| All you want is some hope | |
| And a shoulder to cry on. | |
| There's a stranger inside me somewhere | |
| That shadow behind me, don't even look like me. | |
| An echoed apology. | |
| He's a wolf in sheep disguise, | |
| I wake up in places I don't even recognize, | |
| Pretender in paradise. | |
| It's your turn, step up and take it | |
| If you've got the guts to hang on | |
| You can make. | |
| C'mon, c'mon, come on, | |
| Ooooh take it! |
| zuo qu : John Entwistle | |
| zuo ci : Entwistle | |
| Up here on the ledge | |
| I' m getting pushed to the edge | |
| People line up behind me to step into my shoes, | |
| Up here in the precipice | |
| I' m getting close to my nemesis | |
| People fighting each other to jump into my blues | |
| There' s a young kid inside me somewhere | |
| He stays up all night, a vampire that never dies, | |
| With the blood and the moon in his eyes | |
| I hear his voice when I' m comin' down, | |
| Sleep is for fools, whe never see the sunrise, | |
| Who never get to live twice. | |
| I was a face in a magazine, | |
| When you were still playin' with your plasticine, | |
| Now you' re doggin' my tail, ridin' the slipstream, | |
| You can take the fans and the enemies | |
| The little girls who squeeze and tease | |
| Then pass on their social disease, | |
| Go get your penicillin. | |
| I know you young and dumb, | |
| I know where you' re comin' from. | |
| Don' t know where you' re goin' to, | |
| But I bin there same as you, | |
| You' re running out of ideas, | |
| And new hats to try on. | |
| I know you middle age | |
| Same song, different page, | |
| I know what you' re goin' through | |
| Made the same mistakes as you, | |
| All you want is some hope | |
| And a shoulder to cry on. | |
| There' s a stranger inside me somewhere | |
| That shadow behind me, don' t even look like me. | |
| An echoed apology. | |
| He' s a wolf in sheep disguise, | |
| I wake up in places I don' t even recognize, | |
| Pretender in paradise. | |
| It' s your turn, step up and take it | |
| If you' ve got the guts to hang on | |
| You can make. | |
| C' mon, c' mon, come on, | |
| Ooooh take it! |
| zuò qǔ : John Entwistle | |
| zuò cí : Entwistle | |
| Up here on the ledge | |
| I' m getting pushed to the edge | |
| People line up behind me to step into my shoes, | |
| Up here in the precipice | |
| I' m getting close to my nemesis | |
| People fighting each other to jump into my blues | |
| There' s a young kid inside me somewhere | |
| He stays up all night, a vampire that never dies, | |
| With the blood and the moon in his eyes | |
| I hear his voice when I' m comin' down, | |
| Sleep is for fools, whe never see the sunrise, | |
| Who never get to live twice. | |
| I was a face in a magazine, | |
| When you were still playin' with your plasticine, | |
| Now you' re doggin' my tail, ridin' the slipstream, | |
| You can take the fans and the enemies | |
| The little girls who squeeze and tease | |
| Then pass on their social disease, | |
| Go get your penicillin. | |
| I know you young and dumb, | |
| I know where you' re comin' from. | |
| Don' t know where you' re goin' to, | |
| But I bin there same as you, | |
| You' re running out of ideas, | |
| And new hats to try on. | |
| I know you middle age | |
| Same song, different page, | |
| I know what you' re goin' through | |
| Made the same mistakes as you, | |
| All you want is some hope | |
| And a shoulder to cry on. | |
| There' s a stranger inside me somewhere | |
| That shadow behind me, don' t even look like me. | |
| An echoed apology. | |
| He' s a wolf in sheep disguise, | |
| I wake up in places I don' t even recognize, | |
| Pretender in paradise. | |
| It' s your turn, step up and take it | |
| If you' ve got the guts to hang on | |
| You can make. | |
| C' mon, c' mon, come on, | |
| Ooooh take it! |
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