Schlagwort: DJ

In Brighton legte das Tier die Sticks mal auf die Seite und spielte Tabla:
[youtube]Zj9Sv1JpmPs[/youtube]
Indian Summer – Brighton, September 2010

Lyrics:
Walking up to me expecting
Walking up to me expecting words
It happens all the time

Present company accepted
Present company accept the worst
It happens every night

Present company excluded every time
Present company, the best that you can find

Talking like a jerk
Except you are an actual jerk
And living proof that sometimes friends are mean

Present company expect it
Present company, just laugh it off
It’s better than it seems

Present company excluded in every way
Present company, makes me wanna stay

Killing it with close inspecting
Killing it can only make it worse
It sort of makes it breed

Present company accepting
Presently we all expect the worst
Works just like a need

Present company excluded in the night
Present company included in the fight

Don’t you want me to wake up
Then give me just a bit of your time
Arguments are made for make-ups
So give it just a little more time

We’ve got to bring our results
I wanna play it ‚til the time comes
But there’s a string of divorces
You go and throw your little hands up

I miss the way the night comes
With friends who always make it feel good
This basement has a cold glow
Though it’s better than a bunch of others

So go and dance yourself clean
Go and dance yourself clean
You’re blowing Marxism to pieces
Baby, they’re arguments, the pieces

It’s your show
Work a little bit

Every night’s a different story
It’s a thirty car pile-up with you
Everybody’s getting younger
It’s the end of an era, it’s true

And you go
Stop, stop, stop, stop

Make me into bigger pieces
So some of me is home with you
Wait until the weekend
And we can make our dreams come true

And it’s a-go
Yeah, it’s a-go
And if we wait until the weekend
We can miss the best thing to do

Go and dance yourself clean
Go and dance yourself clean
You’re blowing Marxism to pieces
Maybe they’re arguments, the pieces

We should try a little harder
In the tedious march of the few
Every day’s a different warning
There’s a part of me hoping it’s true