We don't eat in no white restaurants We're eating in a car Baloney again, baloney again We don't sleep in no white hotel bed We're sleeping in the car
Well, I have been it every since I was a kid at school Now they love me in Newcastle and in Liverpool I am as hard as a pistol, I can't do no wrong I'
Your date has gone home Now you're left on your own sweet own Your tough talkin' friend Split on you in the bitter end And you look like a fine thing,
We only knew each other by a letter When I met her off the train When the smoke get cleared and the dust was still She was standin? there an' speakin'
These tables are haunted by the ghost of Las Vegas Their chips were once mountains but they came here to play They could take me if they wanted but I
Turnpike Lane, Turnpike Lane You spiked my arm But you missed the vein Now it's all gone But the scars remain Junkie doll, stuck on you My junkie doll
had other dreams instead This baker's boy from the west country Would join the Royal Society We are sailing to Philadelphia A world away from the coaly Tyne Sailing to Philadelphia
The drinking dens are spilling out There's staggering in the square There's lads and lasses falling about And a crackling in the air Down around the dungeon
The rock you stood upon Is broken up and gone Hey Babe, who's your baby now? On the slipway of your dream Stands someone else's scheme Hey Babe, who's
On Silvertown way the cranes stand high Quiet and gray against the still of the sky They won't quit and lay down though the action has died They watch
After two thousand came two thousand and one To be the new champions, we were there for to run From springtime in Arizona, 'til the fall in Monterey And
Big black cloud On a yellow plain Sure enough it Looks like rain Packin' up all our Faith and trust Me and the wanderlust Open window Empty bed and chair
Don't you love the sound of the last laugh my friend? Don't you love the sound of the last laugh at the end? Down in the gutter with the mad old soldiers
had other dreams instead This baker's boy from the west country Would join the Royal Society... We are sailing to Philadelphia A world away from the coaly Tyne Sailing to Philadelphia
Tulkojums: Mark Knopfler. Buru Lai Philadelphia.
Tulkojums: Mark Knopfler. Sailing Lai Philadelphia [dzīvot].
We don't eat in no white restaurants We're eating in a car Baloney again, baloney again We don't sleep in no white hotel bed We're sleeping in a car
Well I have been it every since I was a kid at school Now they love me in Newcastle and in Liverpool I am as hard as a pistol I can't do no wrong I've