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Группа Mott The Hoople
The Moon Upstairs
(ian hunter/mick ralphs)
Well my brother he was a drinking man
And i asked him for release
He said this won't do you no good
And sent for the police
Well they busted me for nothing
Cos they said i was insane
So they let my body go
But they locked away my brain
Well i wandered freely as a bird that had broken both its wings
And i hated them and they hated me and i hated everthing
And i realise that to survive well my body is not mine
And i feel neglected feel rejected
Living in the wrong time
And to those of you who always laugh
Let this be your epitaph
And my head is down and i'm called a clown by comedians that grace
The living stage of every page of worthless meaningless space
But i swear to you before we're though you're gonna feel our every blow
We ain't bleeding you we're feeding you but you're too f*cking slow
And to those of you who always laugh
Let this be your epitaph
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