The Pogues - Billy's Bones (The Janice Long Show) [July 1985] [Live] paroles de chanson
The Pogues Billy's Bones (The Janice Long Show) [July 1985] [Live]

Billy's Bones (The Janice Long Show) [July 1985] [Live]

The Pogues


paroles de chanson Billy's Bones (The Janice Long Show) [July 1985] [Live] - The Pogues




Billy ran around with the rare old crew
And he knew an Arsenal from Tottenham blue
We'd be a darn sight better of if we knew
Where Billy's bones are resting now
Billy saw a copper and he hit him in the knee
And he took him down from six foot to five foot three
Hit him fair and square in the do-re-mi
That copper won't be having any family
Hey Billy, son, where are you now?
Don't you know that we need you now?
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now?
Billy went away with the peacekeeping force
'Cause he liked a bloody good fight of course
Went away in a big khaki van
To the banks of the willy Jordan
Billy saw the Arabs and he had 'em on the run
When he got 'em in the range of his sub-machine gun
Then he had the Israelis in his sights
Went a ra-ta-ta and they ran like shit
Hey Billy, son, where are you now?
Don't you know that we need you now?
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now?
Hey Billy, son, where are you now?
Don't you know that we need you now?
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now?
One night Billy had a rare old time
Laughing and singing on the Lebanon line
Came back to camp not looking too pretty
He never even got to see the Holy City
Now Billy's out there in the desert sun
And his mother cries when the morning comes
And there's mother's crying all over this world
For their poor dead darling boys and girls
Hey Billy, son, where are you now?
Don't you know that we need you now?
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow
Where are Billy's bones resting now?
With a ra-ta-ta and the old kow-tow (hello Billy, hello Billy)
Where are Billy's bones resting now? (have a Billy holiday, born on a Monday)
Married on a Tuesday, drunk on a Wednesday
Got plugged on a Thursday, sick on a Friday
Died on a Saturday, buried on a Sunday



Writer(s): Shane Patrick Lysaght Macgowan


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