Vi kunne også her have fejret The Cure’s Robert Smith i dag, men vi har ikke konfetti og fyrværkeri nok til alles fødselsdage, så nu blev det altså kun Iggy Pops – tillykke James!
THE PASSENGER
I am the passenger
And I ride and I ride
I ride through the city’s backside
I see the stars come out of the sky
Yeah, they’re bright in a hollow sky
You know it looks so good tonight
I am the passenger
I stay under glass
I look through my window so bright
I see the stars come out tonight
I see the bright and hollow sky
Over the city’s a rip in the sky
And everything looks good tonight
Singin’ la la la la la-la-la la
La la la la la-la-la la
La la la la la-la-la la la-la
Get into the car
We’ll be the passenger
We’ll ride through the city tonight
See the city’s ripped insides
We’ll see the bright and hollow sky
We’ll see the stars that shine so bright
The sky was made for us tonight
Oh the passenger
How how he rides
Oh the passenger
He rides and he rides
He looks through his window
What does he see?
He sees the sided hollow sky
He see the stars come out tonight
He sees the city’s ripped backsides
He sees the winding ocean drive
And everything was made for you and me
All of it was made for you and me
’cause it just belongs to you and me
So let’s take a ride and see what’s mine
Singing…
Oh, the passenger
He rides and he rides
He sees things from under glass
He looks through his window’s eye
He sees the things he knows are his
He sees the bright and hollow sky
He sees the city asleep at night
He sees the stars are out tonight
And all of it is yours and mine
And all of it is yours and mine
Oh, let’s ride and ride and ride and ride…
Singing…
© Iggy Pop
Ja – lige præcis. Jeg husker, Robert Smith har fødselsdag idag. Da jeg var teenager fejrede min veninde og jeg ham med øl og musik hvert år. Jeg vil råbe hurra for Robert idag!!!
I must fight this sickness – find a cure
Der er vist også en gammel dame i England, der fylder rundt. Hun skal da også lige have en hyldest:
God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
Potential H-bomb
God save the queen
She ain’t no human being
There is no future
In England’s dreaming
Don’t be told what you want
Don’t be told what you need
There’s no future, no future,
No future for you
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
‘Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems
Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh Lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid
When there’s no future
How can there be sin
We’re the flowers in the dustbin
We’re the poison in your human machine
We’re the future, you’re future
God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves
God save the queen
We mean it man
And there is no future
In England’s dreaming
No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future,
No future for me
No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future
For you