P.F.M. - The Best Of Pfm [compilation] (2000) by P.F.M. (보컬) on maniadb.com

Lady dancing on a Tulip
Pirouetting in the sunset
Let me be your next cigarette.
Church bells, played by a penguin
Bearded priest who walks like chaplin,
I must fly like a swallow tonight.
Chinese rice paper poet
Dips his paintbrush in the silence
Of the lake which mirrors the sky.
Milkmaids waltz around the haystack
when the maestro blows his trumpet.
Bandsmen hammer at the cafe
for the gypsy's drawbridge bottle.
Choir boys pull on the zig-zag
Of the monkey's dream piano.
Fish eat stolen keys in rivers
Where the wooden legs go sailing.
Clocks join hands to dance the polka.
Sweep the carpet under the carpet
Promenade the Puzzle.

Shiny shoes, he runs to catch the train
Rockets launched if he is late again
Pushed and squeezed on the sardine machine
To his Mr. Nine till Five routine.
Filing piling on his desk all day
In and out from tray to endless tray;
Tea and biscuits secretary's legs
Luncheon daydreams over curried eggs.
Yes sir, no sir, on the squawking phone,
Five o'clock rush-hour exhausted home.
T.V., bedtime and excite the wife
Set the clock get up repeat through life.
Mr. Nine till Five ...
Down on his knees for the weekend.
All too soon it's Sunday afternoon
Post the pools and watch the 'Box' till ten
Shuts his eyes, wakes up it's Monday again ...

cerco il sole ma non c'...
Dorme ancora la campagna, forse no,
sveglia, mi guarda, non so.
Gi l'odore della terra odor di grano,
sale adagio verso me.
e la vita nel mio petto batte piano,
respira la nebbia, penso a te.
Quanto verde tutto intorno a ancor pi in l,
sembra quasi un mare l'erba,
e leggero il mio pensiero vola e va
ho quasi paura che si perda...
Un cavallo tende il collo verso il prato
resta fermo come me:
faccio un passo, lui mi vede, gi
fuggito...
Respiro la nebbia, penso a te.
No, cosa sono adesso non lo so
sono come, un uomo in cerca di se stesso
no, cosa sono adesso non lo so
sono solo, solo il suono del mio passo...
Ma intanto il sole tra la nebbia filtra gi:
il giorno come sempre sar.

You're into fashion
Oh, yeah, but I'm into jeans
You're into martinis
But I'm into pop machines
CHORUS
You love romantic nights
But honey, love and satin sheets just ain't for me
'Cause you know what I love
I love, you love, we love whipped cream-whipped cream
I want, you want, we want whipped cream-squire me, baby!
I love, you love, we love whipped cream-whipped cream
You're into sports cars
Oh, yeah, but I'd rather drive a truck
You'd rather make love
Oh, yeah, but I'd rather...
CHORUS