the same mistakes My reputation's on the line The final day of '59 But like the sun, just watch me shine Today How 'bout a cheer for the piano
Look, I, I've spent a lot of time working on this Look, no one's gonna buy it, no one Nobody in middle America, anyway that's for sure He's right Sweetheart
that a lot, doesn't he? uhm... oh, I'm david bowie, I live Down the road. Bing: oh! David: sir percival let's me use his piano if he not around. he
their address Oh, it seems we've been crying for years and for years Now I don't speak any English, just American without tears Just American without
Frank zappa (guitar, piano, lead vocals) Billy mundi (drums, vocals, yak) Bunk gardner (woodwinds) Roy estrada (electric bass, vocals) Don preston (retired
(drums) Bunk gardner (piccolo, flute, clarinet, bass clarinet, soprano saxophone, alto saxophone, tenor saxophone, bassoon) Ian underwood (electric organ, piano, harpsichord
funky guitar yo reggae hear the piano, stick it to me watch me now you watch me now Playing from east to west yeah I just play from north to south, yeah I love black America
next to a small manual projector.) THE LITTLE BOY The era of Ragtime had run out, as if history were no more than a tune on a player piano. But we did
and the Instrumental (Mandolin + Piano) One of America's great national pastimes Is the worship of speed Planting the seeds Takin' more than she needs One of America
strides. watching two pianos and five guys! watching two pianos and five guys! watching two pianos and five 1 2 3 4 5 poofs and two pianos yeah it'll
buongiorno Dio lo sai che ci sono anch'io Lasciatemi cantare con la chitarra in mano lasciatemi cantare una canzone piano piano Lasciatemi cantare perche
alors cesse tes mimiques je suis pas ton esclave Moi j'exclame sur beat crasseux comme l'Erika, trop lyrical pour 1 minute de silence quand dieu bless America
Dio, lo sai che ci sono anch?io. Laciatemi cantare con la chitarra in mano Laciatemi cantare una canzone piano piano Laciatemi cantare, perche ne sono
mai, non dorme mai... Ma Milano non e l'America un momento i conti, no, non tornano ma Milano non e l'America sento un grido e i sogni piano muoiono
piano e la sua torta a mano rivoluziono Risoluti combattenti coltivati all'ombra dei cowboys Trasognati, malcontenti, telefilm ne han visti tanti Figli di un America
Figlio d'italiani d'America mio padre e arrivato qua che era ancora un ragazzino cosi tanto tempo fa sulle spalle di suo padre guardava i grattacieli
moi destino Lui si, era piu forte di me E ho vinto anche in America Io che non so parlare Che avevo solo muscoli E fame da sfamare Arrivederci America
la in America ma erano solo le lampare e la bianca scia di un'elica senti il dolore nella musica e si alzo dal pianoforte ma quando vide uscire