Paroles Bel Air de Old 97's

Old 97's
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  • Artiste: Old 97's29400
  • Chanson: Bel Air
  • Langue:
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Bel Air de The Old 97's

I've been lightin' matches in the boiler room, Wearing sulphur perfume. (Don't I smell nice?) You come sniffin' around just like you own the joint, You know it's rude to point. (Don't make me tell you twice.) Well...

Spider Pie de Gift Horse Mouth

You came to hinder my progress, You came to give me a start, You came to intrude on my little scene, You came to pull me apart. You came to offer me deliverence, You came to keep score, You came to grease...

Band Of Gold de Bonnie Tyler

Now that you've gone All that's left is a band of gold All that's left of the dreams I hold Is a band of gold And the memory Of what love could be If you wee Still here with me You took me from the shelter...

Let's Start A Band de Amy Macdonald

Put a ribbon round my neck and call me a libertine I will sing you songs of dreams I used to dream I will sail away on seas of silver and gold Until I reach my home Give me a guitar and I'll be a trooper-dor...

Band Of Gold de Freda Payne

Now that you're gone, All that's left is a band of gold All that's left of the dreams I hold Is a band of gold And the memories of what love could be If you were still here with me You took me from the shelter...

Textes et Paroles de Bel Air





I've been lightin' matches in the boiler room,
Wearing sulphur perfume.
(Don't I smell nice?)

You come sniffin' around just like you own the joint,
You know it's rude to point.
(Don't make me tell you twice.)

Well I like the way you walk,
That's why I left my door unlocked.
I must be going off half-cocked. (I sometimes do.)

You think it's funny, but I know it ain't no joke.
There's nothing left to read in here, there's nothing left to smoke.
Before the band the band kicks in, I guess I'd better start.
(I'll stomp a mud hole in your heart.)

You poured whiskey in my Slurpee, swear to God you got me drunk,
Now I'm thinking that I'm sunk.
(And I can't swim.)

I'm drowning in the back seat of a '61 Bel Air,
I got a mouthful of your hair.
(A handful of skin.)

I ain't suffocating,
I'm just sick and tired of waiting.
Stop this pointless hesitating. (Pull me in.)

There's an awful lot of stars out here, an awful lot of sky.
I'm turning on the radio, they're playing


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