Songtexte




Born on a black Monday
Me mother screamin' curses
Me aul' out in the pub losin' money on the horses
Me granny kicked in the door
Said "Get a job ya bastard!"
And I come rolling into the world a walkin' talkin' disaster
With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle
Oh, music in me soul and a beat on me boom box
So up, down, turn around, crash into the wall
Dancing to the beat of me own different drummer roll
At the age of 16 years I was apprenticed to a grocer
But they never knew me name all they wanted was yes or no sir
So I bought a cheap guitar
I learned to write me poetry
And me and rock 'n' roll set off to see the country
Oh we played in pubs and dancehalls
We even played in brothels
I learned all about the good life
To the arse end of a bottle
I learned about love
From many's the fine lady
But I was always searching for me one true darlin' baby
With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle
Oh, music in me soul and a beat on me boom box
So up, down, turn around, crash into the wall
Dancing to the beat of me own different drummer roll
Oh, I searched from coast to coast
From Florida to Canada
With me heart upon me sleeve
Screamin' out "Hi, where are ya?"
Till I went over a six foot girl
From the south side of Chicago
But it turned out she was a model
Can you imagine the disaster?
But the sweetest girl of all was from the state of California
Ah she took me home to bed
Keep me rockin' till the mornin'
Till the door came crashin' in
In the midst of me shenanigans
And her husband beat me up so bad
I'm never getting up again
With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle
Oh, music in me soul and a beat on me boom box
So up, down, turn around, crash into the wall
Dancing to the beat of me own different drummer roll
Oh, I'm goin' back to Brooklyn
With me tail between me legs, oh
I'm giving up this rock 'n' roll
'Tis far too dangerous work, oh
Stay at yer steady jobs me boys
Get married and have babies
And keep the hell away
From them California ladies
With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle
Oh, music in me soul and a beat on me boom box
So up, down, turn around, crash into the wall
Dancing to the beat of me own different drummer roll
With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle
Oh, music in me soul and a beat on me boom box
So up, down, turn around, crash into the wall
Dancing to the beat of me own different drummer roll
With a toot on the flute and a twiddle on the fiddle
Oh, music in me soul and a beat on me boom box
So up, down, turn around, crash into the wall
Dancing to the beat of me own different drummer roll



Autor(en): Larry Kirwan


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