Pigs (Three Different Ones) Testo
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Traduzione di Pigs (Three Different Ones)
Testo Pigs (Three Different Ones)
Big man, pig man, ha ha charade you are.
You well heeled big wheel, ha ha charade you are.
And when your hand is on your heart,
you're nearly a good laugh, almost a joker,
with your head down in the pig bin,
saying, “ Keep on digging”, pig stain on your fat chin.
What do you hope to find?
When you're down in the pig mine
You're nearly a laugh, you're nearly a laugh,
but you're really a cry.
Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are.
You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are.
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass.
You're nearly a good laugh,
almost worth a quick grin.
You like the feel of steel,
you're hot stuff with a hat pin,
and good fun with a hand gun.
You're nearly a laugh, you're nearly a laugh,
but you're really a cry.
Hey you, Whitehouse,
ha ha charade you are.
You house proud town mouse,
ha ha charade you are.
You're trying to keep our feelings off the street,
you're nearly a real treat,
all tight lips and cold feet,
and do you feel abused? You gotta stem the evil tide,
and keep it all on the inside.
Mary, you're nearly a treat,
Mary, you're nearly a treat,
but you're really a cry.
You well heeled big wheel, ha ha charade you are.
And when your hand is on your heart,
you're nearly a good laugh, almost a joker,
with your head down in the pig bin,
saying, “ Keep on digging”, pig stain on your fat chin.
What do you hope to find?
When you're down in the pig mine
You're nearly a laugh, you're nearly a laugh,
but you're really a cry.
Bus stop rat bag, ha ha charade you are.
You fucked up old hag, ha ha charade you are.
You radiate cold shafts of broken glass.
You're nearly a good laugh,
almost worth a quick grin.
You like the feel of steel,
you're hot stuff with a hat pin,
and good fun with a hand gun.
You're nearly a laugh, you're nearly a laugh,
but you're really a cry.
Hey you, Whitehouse,
ha ha charade you are.
You house proud town mouse,
ha ha charade you are.
You're trying to keep our feelings off the street,
you're nearly a real treat,
all tight lips and cold feet,
and do you feel abused? You gotta stem the evil tide,
and keep it all on the inside.
Mary, you're nearly a treat,
Mary, you're nearly a treat,
but you're really a cry.
WATERS, ROGER
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind