Alphaville - Twelve Years

The circus is full of smoke
After all this years
Some were good, some were bad
Didn't know what i was about
To start when i started
Though i wrote it all down
God, I was so naive
When you're on the show
You've got to shoot not to sing

When you're on the show
You've got to shoot not to sing

Wasn't it worth anyway
12 years, 6 were good, 6 were bad
20.000 songs in my head
And a toast to all the pimps
In the world here's to you
Hey, hey, here's to you
Till the last bullet's fired
Welcome, sweet needles of success
Here's to you
You got to shoot not to sing
Welcome, customers, whores
I still got my gun

I still got my gun

Look, I point at you

There's a shadow on the target
I guess you call it future
And the fingertip-orchestras sounded
Like spirit rapping on the radio

The day i sold my music
For less than a soul
To a full-playback-pop-music-teenage-hero
Here's to you
Sweet needles of success
Welcome, customers, whores
I still got my gun
Here's to you
You got to shoot not to sing
I still got some shots inside

Welcome, sweet needles of succes
Take me home, take me home

Oh, sweet needles of success
Here I go
Into the dry-ice fog.
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tekst edytował: krzada1956