Текст песни A Small Plot Of Land - Live at the Shakespeare Festival, New York, 18th September, 1995 - David Bowie
Poor
soul
Spit
upon
that
Poor
soul
He
never
knew
what
hit
him
And
it
hit
him
so
Poor
dunce
He
pushed
back
the
pigmen
The
Barbs
laughed
The
fool
is
dead
Poor
dunce
He's
more
than
within
us
The
brains
talk
But
the
will
to
live
is
dead
And
prayer
can
Travel
so
far
these
days
Thrilling
of
your
life
Standing
so
near
To
innocent
eyes
Poor
dunce
Swings
through
the
tunnels
And
claws
his
way
Is
small
life
so
manic
Are
these
really
the
days
Poor
dunce
Poor
dunce
Poor
soul
Spit
upon
that
Poor
soul
He
never
knew
what
hit
him
And
it
hit
him
so
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