| well i can’t speak their language but i can order their ales | |
| so I can skip those borders if all else fails | |
| strength in my passport Samsonite Samson | |
| i’ll find my Delilah and i’ma fill a stein (philistine) glass with reckless abandon | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. | |
| well i’ve been crushed by the cabin pressure | |
| placed on a pedestal and praised by strangers | |
| and when i think that i’m king of the hill | |
| i still look small to the mountain ranges | |
| from the river to the sea, from the city to the stages | |
| driven by humility and my pen upon these pages | |
| cause i grew up on the train lines | |
| where i learned to duck and weave | |
| while the city slept them sleepers kept | |
| a certain hold over me | |
| but now i’ve flown my coop but i know where i was founded | |
| so no matter how high that i fly them sleepers keep me grounded. | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head.and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head.and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i’ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. |
| well i can' t speak their language but i can order their ales | |
| so I can skip those borders if all else fails | |
| strength in my passport Samsonite Samson | |
| i' ll find my Delilah and i' ma fill a stein philistine glass with reckless abandon | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. | |
| well i' ve been crushed by the cabin pressure | |
| placed on a pedestal and praised by strangers | |
| and when i think that i' m king of the hill | |
| i still look small to the mountain ranges | |
| from the river to the sea, from the city to the stages | |
| driven by humility and my pen upon these pages | |
| cause i grew up on the train lines | |
| where i learned to duck and weave | |
| while the city slept them sleepers kept | |
| a certain hold over me | |
| but now i' ve flown my coop but i know where i was founded | |
| so no matter how high that i fly them sleepers keep me grounded. | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. |
| well i can' t speak their language but i can order their ales | |
| so I can skip those borders if all else fails | |
| strength in my passport Samsonite Samson | |
| i' ll find my Delilah and i' ma fill a stein philistine glass with reckless abandon | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. | |
| well i' ve been crushed by the cabin pressure | |
| placed on a pedestal and praised by strangers | |
| and when i think that i' m king of the hill | |
| i still look small to the mountain ranges | |
| from the river to the sea, from the city to the stages | |
| driven by humility and my pen upon these pages | |
| cause i grew up on the train lines | |
| where i learned to duck and weave | |
| while the city slept them sleepers kept | |
| a certain hold over me | |
| but now i' ve flown my coop but i know where i was founded | |
| so no matter how high that i fly them sleepers keep me grounded. | |
| and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. and i aint got a place round here | |
| and no one know my face round here | |
| i' ve only got my word to spread and | |
| a place to rest my head. |
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