wtorek, 13 marca 2012

Penny Lane - Sting

In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs.

Of every head he's had the pleasure to know.

And all the people that come and go

Stop and say hello.


On the corner is a banker with a motorcar,

The little children laugh at him behind his back.

And the banker never wears a mack

In the pouring rain, very strange.


Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

There beneath the blue suburban skies

I sit, and meanwhile back


In penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass

And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen.

He likes to keep his fire engine clean,

It's a clean machine.


Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

A four of fish and finger pies

In summer, meanwhile back


Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout

The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray

And tho' she feels as if she's in a play

She is anyway.


In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,

We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim.

And then the fireman rushes in

From the pouring rain, very strange.


Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

There beneath the blue suburban skies

I sit, and meanwhile back.

Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

There beneath the blue suburban skies,

Penny Lane. In Penny Lane there is a barber showing photographs.

Of every head he's had the pleasure to know.

And all the people that come and go

Stop and say hello.


On the corner is a banker with a motorcar,

The little children laugh at him behind his back.

And the banker never wears a mack

In the pouring rain, very strange.


Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

There beneath the blue suburban skies

I sit, and meanwhile back


In penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass

And in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen.

He likes to keep his fire engine clean,

It's a clean machine.


Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

A four of fish and finger pies

In summer, meanwhile back


Behind the shelter in the middle of a roundabout

The pretty nurse is selling poppies from a tray

And tho' she feels as if she's in a play

She is anyway.


In Penny Lane the barber shaves another customer,

We see the banker sitting waiting for a trim.

And then the fireman rushes in

From the pouring rain, very strange.


Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

There beneath the blue suburban skies

I sit, and meanwhile back.

Penny lane is in my ears and in my eyes.

There beneath the blue suburban skies,

Penny Lane.

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