Give me strength to be sweet passion fruit. Make me tall make me Courtney cute. Maybe rich help me see precious things. Help me mend these broken wings.
There's entertainment. There's politics. There's popular culture. There's dialectics. But never the twain shall meet. Never the twain shall meet. This is a myth, propagated by the bourgeois wordsmiths.
[MUSIC BY TATSU MIKAMI / LYRICS BY YOSHIAKI NEGISHI]. . PLEASE LET ME INSIDE. OPEN YOUR DOOR. I'M HERE TO CHOKE YOU DOWN. . SHOW ME YOU'RE SMILING. AND HEAR ME YOUR CRYING.
You'd drop my hand to change my view. Break and bend till I lose to you. Drawing conclusions color in what you miss. You paint this picture of me just two eyes and a kiss.
That golden era. That golden era. David Bedford, Georgie Best. Olga Korbutt, Eddie Mercx. Tony Jacklin, Jochen Rindt. Ille Nastase, Rachael Flint. Gary Player, Clive Lloyd.
Cut and clipped to make you sleek. Whipped and brushed from stall to track. Laden down with heavy pack. Or carrying rider on your back. And finally your neck is broken.
I'm stuck in one gear. Caught spinning wheels where're we going. Its not been all you said its gonna be. . Black coffee mornings. Blues station sings "I must be going".
Knight to Bishop 4. Next move in the cold war. In the Spassky/Fischer battle. To see who rules the castle. Spassky takes Hungary (and Czecks). Fischer takes Grenada.
Dare I say I'm a fan of your work. I'm your number 1. But still sometimes I forget words to your songs. Though I still belong. And I can't imagine why.
How come all the best athletes. Had the poshest kits. While the slow, fat, thin, and spotty ones. Had shorts that didn't fit?. They never lingered in the changing rooms.
Please don't tell. I never meant to hurt you though I didn't wish you well (and). . Please don't you tell. I don't know what I was thinking. . This disease brings me to my knees.
The little leagues, the spare-time sports. Works teams and pub teams. Sandwiches for the darts competition. Oranges at half time. Spare time tennis, scrambling on fields.
Honest to God I never gave it a thought. That I'd be much better without. I was stuck in a haze another year in a daze. That I'm still left wondering about.
It's all about getting the ball in the back of the net, Brian. I'm as sick as a parrot, Brian. I'm over the moon, Brian. Well, I think the lads were well worth a point, Brian.
Tough break it's over and done. And it's a bitter pill. Why take this lying down. Help me up that hill. . Cause its a lot to learn. To keep my work from you.
From the heights of Montezuma to the shores of Sicily. From the rainplains of Africa. Across the shining sea. From the East to the West. From the rainforests to the dustbowls.
Accidentally found out what you're all about. I was happy 'til now but there's always a doubt. That I get when I think everything's going well. But still we might not have met.
She's a slip of a girl to be out of school. She's a product of apartheid. She won her spurs under minority rule. She's a product of apartheid. Afrikaners run the best.
I coulda seen why some girls hide away. When I saw you were crying alone last Sunday. Pretty soon all the seeds will be sewn. I'm a lot like your best friend who wants to take you home.
Closed circuit TV and hooligans. The guinea pigs are the football fans. Using football's bad reputation. For crowd control operations. Seizing on any chance.