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Оригинален текст
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Текст на „Anyway“
All the pumping's nearly over for my sweet heart
This is the one for me
Time to meet the chef
O boy! the running man is out of death
Feel cold and old, it's getting hard to catch my breath
's back to ash, now, you've had your flash boy
The rocks, in time, compress
Your blood to oil
Your flesh to coal
Enrich the soil
Not everybody's goal
Anyway, they say she comes on a pale horse
But I'm sure I hear a train
O boy! I don't even feel no pain
I guess I must be driving myself insane
Damn it all! does earth plug a hole in heaven
Or heaven plug a hole in earth - "how wonderful to be so profound
When everything you are is dying underground"
I feel the pull on the rope, let me off at the rainbow
I could have been exploding in space
Different orbits for my bones
Not me, just quietly buried in stones
Keep the deadline open with my maker!
See me stretch for God's elastic acre
The doorbell rings and it's
"Good morning Rael
So sorry you had to wait
It won't be long, yeh!
She's very rarely late"
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Публикувано от 
solo в(ъв)/на 2019-02-26
solo в(ъв)/на 2019-02-26Редактирано последно от 
domuro в(ъв)/на 2019-03-05
domuro в(ъв)/на 2019-03-05Авторски права:
Writer(s): Alain Macklovitch, Armand Van Helden, Reginald Brown, Jonathan Floyd, Stafford Floyd
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Genesis: 3-те най-преглеждани
| 1. | Mama |
| 2. | The Carpet Crawlers |
| 3. | Jesus, He Knows Me |
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Excerpt from the liner notes:
THE WAITING ROOM
"He panics, feels around for a stone and hurls it at the brightest point.
The sound of breaking glass echoes around the cave.
As his vision is restored he catches sight of two golden gloves
about one foot in diameter hovering away down the tunnel.
When they disappear a resounding crack sears across the roof, and it collapses all around him.
Our hero is trapped once again.
"This is it" he thinks, failing to move any of the fallen rocks"
ANYWAY
"There's not much spectacle for an underground creole as he walks through the gates of Sheol. "I would have preferred to have been jettisoned into a thousand pieces in space, or filled with helium and floated above a mausoleum. This is no way to pay my last subterranean homesick dues. Anyway I'm out of the hands of any pervert embalmer doing his interpretation of what I should look like, stuffing his cotton wool in my cheeks."