Paul Shapera - Alexander | Текст песни

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• Paul Shapera
• Alexander

Alex:
Meanwhile, in my neck of the woods, some of my boy come by to say they think they found a guy who might know a little something about a problem we been having with some of our bootleg Dolls going missing.

Thugs:
We gotta mister, we gotta bird who call
we gotta problem we gotta thief who's stealing our Dolls
we gotta mister, we think who knows a few things
we got some ways to make a silent bird wanna sing
All day. Sing your pain away

Alex:
There's not much left, i'm sorry oh my darling
but there's not much left oh Lord knows now of me
There's not much left, a mattress on an empty bed
and there's not much left of Lord knows here of me

Mama squeeled \"You best be stealin' or you're feelin' on you
beatings my boy like you won't believe
Your brother does it and your cousins and they love it
ah but look at you, you pansy gawdamn thing\"

So each i'd go out, but alas i just was not cut out
for thieving so deceiving her i tried
to earn by other means but none of them would keep her pleased
and my secrets on them streets never survived

There's not much left, i'm sorry oh my darling
but there's not much left oh Lord knows now of me
There's not much left, a mattress on an empty bed
and there's not much left of Lord knows here of me

My uncle sneered, he said \"Bring the little pansy here
he just needs a little 'juice' to man him up.\"
The bourbon stung, but while they laughed i tell you, son
it brung to me some sweet, warm comfort finally come

I learned to drink the hard stuff and my anger i found sure enough
was always there for me to drag on up
I learned to drink enough to laugh and rage and lose all touch
with giving a blind piss for anyone

There's not much left, i'm sorry oh my darling
but there's not much left oh Lord knows now of me
There's not much left, a mattress on an empty bed
and there's not much left of Lord knows here of me

When Mama dies i earned respect because i did not cry
and long since i had sheethed my softer sheen
My brother reigned, the boss, until the Mouse took him apart
and now the mob crown hovers over me

I run a business bathed in blood and bootleg Dolls
and it all hinges on a slapstick masquerade
And somewhere there, well it is possible a still care
but truly i hope not for my own sake

A violent man with a bourbon in my hand
this mask is all that's left here don't you see?
A cat o' nine with which i lash and crack the back of life
and all i know, but i assure you mostly me

Cause there's not much left, i'm sorry oh my darling
but there's not much left oh Lord knows now of me
There's not much left, a mattress on an empty bed
and there's not much left of Lord knows here of me

Thugs:
We gotta mister, we gotta songbird who sang
we're gonna need a mop to clean up but here's the thing:
we got albinos underground, you know how they say,
well there's this girl, for years he said she's come up to take
all astray, take our Dolls away.

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