Portugal. The Man

60 Years

Portugal. The Man

American Ghetto


Boy looks high, he looks higher than the sky, you can see it in his eyes, watch as he tries
The city never lets you go so he never tries, the city never lets you go so you never try
(?) on the bread box (?) california, his path was on the parks running (?)
The city was a shotgun ending in sunshine but the sunshine never ends so he never tries
We'll dig a hole and fill it up with other holes, we found a hole and hid away our hungry men

If it takes us sixty years

The boy looks high, he looks higher than the sky, you can see it in his eyes, watch how he cries
The path was on a straight line, church street to houston, houston to the butte coming straight back to houston
We dug a hole, filled it up with other holes, we found a hole and buried all those hungry men

If it takes us sixty years
If it takes us sixty years
If it takes us sixty years I'll dig a hole and find a fire
If it takes us sixty years I'll dig another hole

We found a hole, we found there were some other holes and we climbed inside, we climbed back out, we left em by the hungry men, all the hungry men

If it takes us sixty years I'll dig a hole and find a fire
If it takes us sixty years I'll dig another hole

He got it in his head he'd make more money than the straight man, the straight man
The boy looks high, he looks higher than the sky
(If it takes us sixty years)

The city never lets you go so he never tries
The city never lets you go so he never tries

If it takes us sixty years I'll dig a hole til I find a fire
If it takes us sixty years I'll dig another hole
He got it in his head he'd make more money than the straight man, the straight man

Compositor: John Gourley
ECAD: Obra #5969155

Letra enviada por Sabrina Gross Santos

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