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Joan Jett and The Blackhearts - Summertime Blues | Текст песни

Well, I'm gonna raise a fuss
I'm gonna raise a holler
About a working all summer
Just to try to earn a dollar
Well, time I called my baby
Try to get a date
My boss says, no dice son
You gotta work late
Sometimes I wonder
What I'm a gonna do
But there ain't no cure
For the summertime blues

Oh, well my Mom and Poppa told me, son
You gotta make some money
If you want to use the car
To go ridin' next Sunday
Well I didn't go to work
Told the boss I was sick
Well you can't use the car
Cause you didn't work a lick
Sometimes I wonder
What I'm a gonna do
But there ain't no cure
For the summertime blues

I'm gonna take two weeks
Gonna have a fine vacation
I'm gonna take my problem
To the United Nations
Well I called my congressman
And he said, whoa
I'd like to help you son
But you're too young to vote
Sometimes I wonder
What I'm a gonna do
But there ain't no cure
For the summertime blues

Joan Jett and The Blackhearts еще тексты


Другие названия этого текста
  • Eddie Cochran - Summertime Blues ('58) (0)
  • Joan Jett - Summertime Blues (0)
  • Joan Jett and The Blackhearts - Summertime Blues (0)
  • The Aztecs - Summertime Blues (0)
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