Het is eigenlijk van huis uit een nogal stichtelijk Italiaans lied en, Pasen of niet, ik heb geen zin dat origineel nu te draaien.
Ik heb griep en word dan altijd extra sentimenteel. Mick Ronson met een vers van David Bowie.
My friend myself, boredom’s hero, prince of the alleys
Stumble falling to a winsome table, in search of wine
Mulatto hookers, cocaine bookers, troubled husbands
Stolen freedoms that only evening unfolds to shine
Through the twisting inn of screaming pleasure, two wet lips of infant leisure smiled
Could I grasp at the stars as they play your night blue hair?
Sable eyes, ebony thighs, she shines forever
Dancer be, dancing free, she shines for me
So a masked man should mourn the passing of night time
The long metal dirge, we were prisoners no more
Of the near fallen angels, she will shine on for me
Let the panting begin though the music is lethal
Let the night take me in, you know the daybreak shall win
She will shine on forever, she will shine on for me
While jeering waiters grope at your shoulders, I drink your kisses
Exquisite room, my charming tomb, I see the man
With marble hands, your smooth pimp, piranha, cradles my swimming head
Cracks his glass into my face, I’m thrown away
And then I’m tossed a-bleeding out on the street and ask me, John do I have to drag you away?
And I curse where I lay, have made me bow with thanks some day
Ten thousand engines skid unwielding puncture my skin
Bait and taunt for me to run, back to my rooms
Though the bad taste of sleep clutching my pillow
In anger I weep, she will cry on my chest
She will shine on forever, she will shine on for me
Let the tempting begin though the music is lethal
Let the night take me in though the daybreak shall win
She will shine on forever, she will shine on for me
Ah, yeah
Oh, ohhhhh
Music is lethal, 1974
