Peter Hammill: Happy Hour
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Peter Hammill: Happy Hour
Fuelled by alcohol,
shooting out words like a rocket,
like a prophet out of Babylon
method acting the absurd...
Shoot me those highballs
till I'm lit up like I'm plugged in a socket;
lock me eyeball to eyeball,
let's not bother with the words.
Oh, bring on the clowns, bring on the night,
pour me double vision in black and white.
I'm falling, falling don't give me that look!
I'm falling, falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
My chickadee, my passion flower,
show me the way to the Happy Hour.
I don't like to see that:
oh, no, I don't like the way the hand is shaking,
shape-making like an acrobat
on his way to the trapeze.
My friends in the crowd
are all taking bets
they're taking away the safety net.
Falling, falling don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
vertigo on the high-wire tower
is this really what they mean by "Happy Hour"?
The line between the social and the suicidal
so fine he might not know when he's crossed it,
when he's lost it;
when the social kick becomes the gauging-stick of survival.
So here's to the circus,
let's drink to the game of forgetting
the marionette strings that jerk us,
the real world just outside the door.
I know that my legs have gone
and I know that the light here is far from perfect...
but I've rehearsed it, so I'll carry on
until I wind up on the floor.
My friends in the bar
will stand me a round,
they'll toast me on my way to the underground.
I'm falling, falling don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
My chickadee, my passion flower,
show me the way to the Happy Hour.
Vertigo on the high-wire tower
is this really what they mean by "Happy Hour"?
Put on the greasepaint, we're getting ready for Happy Hour.
Do you hear me now? Can you feel me now?
I'm in the middle of Happy Hour...
Put on the greasepaint.
[repeat to fade]
shooting out words like a rocket,
like a prophet out of Babylon
method acting the absurd...
Shoot me those highballs
till I'm lit up like I'm plugged in a socket;
lock me eyeball to eyeball,
let's not bother with the words.
Oh, bring on the clowns, bring on the night,
pour me double vision in black and white.
I'm falling, falling don't give me that look!
I'm falling, falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
My chickadee, my passion flower,
show me the way to the Happy Hour.
I don't like to see that:
oh, no, I don't like the way the hand is shaking,
shape-making like an acrobat
on his way to the trapeze.
My friends in the crowd
are all taking bets
they're taking away the safety net.
Falling, falling don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
vertigo on the high-wire tower
is this really what they mean by "Happy Hour"?
The line between the social and the suicidal
so fine he might not know when he's crossed it,
when he's lost it;
when the social kick becomes the gauging-stick of survival.
So here's to the circus,
let's drink to the game of forgetting
the marionette strings that jerk us,
the real world just outside the door.
I know that my legs have gone
and I know that the light here is far from perfect...
but I've rehearsed it, so I'll carry on
until I wind up on the floor.
My friends in the bar
will stand me a round,
they'll toast me on my way to the underground.
I'm falling, falling don't give me that look!
I'm falling, only falling, it's the oldest trick in the book,
My chickadee, my passion flower,
show me the way to the Happy Hour.
Vertigo on the high-wire tower
is this really what they mean by "Happy Hour"?
Put on the greasepaint, we're getting ready for Happy Hour.
Do you hear me now? Can you feel me now?
I'm in the middle of Happy Hour...
Put on the greasepaint.
[repeat to fade]
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Peter Hammill: Happy Hour
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Inne teksty wykonawcy
Peter Hammill: Happy Hour
-
Act Four
- Peter Hammill
-
Bubble
- Peter Hammill
-
Can Do
- Peter Hammill
-
Tenderness
- Peter Hammill
-
Stupid
- Peter Hammill
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Peter Hammill: Happy Hour
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Pierwsza miłość
Genzie
„Czułem, że muszę zagadać To nie była łatwa sprawa Naszła mnie lekka obawa Nie ma co się zastanawiać Serce mi bije za szybko Tylko piszemy, widzę cię za szybką Kiedy znajdziemy się blisko Emocje”
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Mama (piosenka z 'Mam talent')
Bartek Wasilewski
„Bartek Wasilewski wykonał ten utwór w programie "Mam talent". Życie ma psychikę że odbiera czasem mowę twoje oczy tak piękne prawie jak karmelowe ja jestem twoim synem zawsze będę pamiętał ja”
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I że czuje się sam - feat. Michał Szczygieł (prod. Michał Głomski)
Julia Rocka
„Znowu dzwonił do mnie w nocy i wysyłał wiadomości, których mam już dosyć. (Oooo) Nie chcę dłużej tego znosić, nigdy nie zrozumiem o co jej w sumie tak naprawdę chodzi. (Oooo) To nie trwało za dłu”
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Chłopiec - feat. Patrycja Markowska, Sarius (prod. Zalucki)
Sebastian Fabijański
„Mamo zobacz jak twój syn już dziś nie płacze Bo jestem ponad, a błędy biorę na klatę Szukam Boga tam gdzie czeka tylko Diabeł By z dna wyciągać tych, co widzieli mój upadek Ale wstałem. Idę dalej,”
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Och i ach
Sylwia Grzeszczak
„Siadam, bo już się zaczął film Zobaczmy go do końca dziś Nasze historie z kilku lat O czym to jest? No, powiedz sam Ten dla dorosłych świat nas zwiódł Co chwilę chciał coś mieć na już Jakąś prze”
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