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Adam Ant




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Альбом Adam Ant


B-Side Babies! (1994)
1994
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Viva le Rock (Instrumental Dub Mix)
. . .


Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
At the screen on the green now

Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out (oh oh)
At the screen on the green now

Ooh ooh ooh-ooh
Ooh ooh ooh-ooh
Ooh ooh ooh-ooh

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
You'd better take it in the ear now

Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out (oh oh)
At the screen on the green now

Ooh ooh ooh-ooh
Ooh ooh ooh-ooh
Ooh ooh ooh-ooh

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
You'd better listen to the ants now

Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out
Fall out (ooh yeah)
Fall out (oh oh)
At the screen on the green now

Bop shoowop
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)
I want it buddy - buddy, bop shoowop (ooh ooh ooh-ooh)

. . .


The murder happy characters have such fun
They murder happy characters one by one
You want a second chance
Out you don't get one

And the good guys hate the bad guys
And the bad guys hate the good guys
And we call this making history
And we call this making history
And we call this making history
And we call this making history

The murder happy characters like to creep
They murder little children while they sleep
They leave you on the floor in a big red heap

And the good guys hate the bad guys
And the bad guys hate the good guys
And we call this making history
And we call this making history
And we call this making history
And we call this making history

The murder happy characters say they know
How to keep the crime rate way down low
"Just nip it in the bud so it can't grow"

And the bad guys hate the good guys
And the good guys hate the bad guys
And we call this making history

. . .


Well tie me up and hit me with a stick
Beat me beat me
Yeah, use a truncheon or a household brick
Beat me beat me
There's so much happiness behind these tears
Beat me beat me
I pray you'll beat me
For ten thousand years
Beat me beat me

I'm black and blue baby
I love you
Be your dog
For just one flog
You don't hear me plead
For you to make me bleed
Beat me beat me
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh oh oh

Well use a truncheon or a cricket bat
Beat me beat me
A good beatings really where its at
Beat me beat me

. . .


I'm a friend of Mr. Pastry
I'm a friend of Allen Jones
I'm a friend of Shirley Bassey
I'm a friend of your chromosomes

I'm a friend of Stuart Sutcliffe
I'm a friend of Michael Miles
I'm a friend of Jim Morrison
I'm a friend of Nobby Stiles

I'm a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
(Friend of a friend)
I'm a friend of a friend but you don't know me
(Don't know me)
I'm a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
(Friend of a friend)
And if I come on the night
Can I get in free?

I'm a friend of Michael Jackson
I'm a friend of Mr Spock
I'm a frend of Dr Kildare
I'm a friend of The Woodentops

I'm a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
(Friend of a friend)
I'm a friend of a friend but you don't know me
(Don't know me)
I'm a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
(Friend of a friend)
And if I come on the night
Can I get in free?

I'm an old friend of Charles Hawtrey
I'm a friend of Michael Caine
I'm a friend of Stanley Spencer
I'm a friend of Big John Wayne

I'm a friend of Stevie Wonder
I'm a friend of Eric Fromm
I'm a friend of Bryan Ferry
I'm a friend of Terence Stamp

I'm a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
(Friend of a friend)
I'm a friend of a friend but you don't know me
(Don't know me)
I'm a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend
(Friend of a friend)
And if I come on the night
Can I get in free?

. . .


I got a heart on my arm
It says pure sex
It hurts
I mean it
Yeah

Red red scab
Red red scab
Red red scab

I got it till I die
Or till I reach orgasmo
I'm gonna get myself a girl with a gun (and fuck 'er)
She's gonna blow my throbbing brain*
Yeah (I fell over)

Red red scab
Red red scab
It was a red red scab
A red red scab
Red red scab
A red red scab
Red red scab
Red red scab
Red red scab

Hey Marco, not so many noise, eh?
Sorry guys, me dad wants to put the car in the garage...

. . .


Lock up your shed because Juanito's coming
Just crossed over into Mexico
Lock up your pigsties and your daughters
'Cos if it moves, you know old Juanito

Young ladies he likes to ravish
He knows how to make them wet
And if he can't, he know he dig himself a hole
Or go looking for your favorite pet, olé

They call him Juanito the Bandito
Lock up your things, you'll be robbed
They call him Juanito
The randy bandito
Oh, how many people have sobbed his name?*

He wears a soft sun-soaked sombrero
A droopy moustache to his chin
He will hold up stab or shoot you
So that he can get it in okay

(Alright) they call him Juanito the Bandito
Lock up your things, you'll be robbed
They call him Juanito
The randy bandito
Oh, how many people have sobbed his name?*

My son, I tell you... don't bother
I'm going downtown with the guys okay?

. . .


Why?
Tell me why?
Oh why?
Do girls love horses?
Why?
Oh why?
Tell me why?
Do girls love horses?

Is it 'cos they're round?
Or they're six feet off the ground?
Is it because they're on top?
Or the clippety clop?

Why?
Oh why?
Tell me why?
Do girls love horses?
Why?
Oh why?
Tell me why?
Do girls love horses?

Is it 'cos they're round?
'Cos they're six foot off the ground?
Is it because they're on top?
Or the clippety clop?

Why?
Oh why?
Tell me why?
Do girls love horses?
Why?
Oh why?
Tell me why?
Do girls love horses?

(repeat 'til fade)

. . .


A love dare not speakin' the name
A love dare not speakin' the

I will love you each day of my life
And when I die they can
Fetch them a knife
Cut me open
And written on my brain
And in my heart they'll find a name
It'll be yours, yours, yours, yours

A love dare not speakin' the name
A love dare not speakin' the

If you wanna be happy
Live out of the past
Make your new lover
As good as the last
Or better...

I will love you each day of my life
And when I die they can
Fetch them a knife
Cut me open
Written on my brain
And in my heart they'll find a name
It'll be yours, yours, yours, yours

A love dare not speakin' the name
A love dare not speakin' the

If you wanna be happy
Live out of the past
Make your new lover
As good as the last
Or better...

A love dare not speakin' the name
A love dare not speakin' the

Please don't love me
For what I'm not
Better you hate me
For what I've got

. . .


In for a penny in, for a pound
If she walks by you, you better turn around
She wants sparkle and she don't give a damn
As well be hung for
A sheep than a lamb

So be her Daddy
She hits back
Kiss the drummer
Rat-a-tat-tat

Got to learn to laugh at this
Laugh and enjoy herself
Got to learn to laugh at this
Laugh and enjoy herself
Got to learn to laugh at this
Laugh and enjoy herself
Got to learn to laugh at this
Miss Fierce kiss the drummer

Little by little, bit by bit
Love stood laughing at this locksmith
She may be wrong, and she may be right
But barking dogs they
Seldom bite

So be her Daddy
She hits back
Kiss the drummer
Rat-a-tat-tat

Got to learn to laugh at this
Laugh and enjoy herself
Got to learn to laugh at this
Laugh and enjoy herself
Got to learn to laugh at this
Laugh and enjoy herself
Got to learn to laugh at this
Miss Fierce kiss the drummer

In the panic and the traumas
Miss Fierce puts on her
Fierce legwarmers

When men think big
And by golly they do
They don't wanna go crying
Boo-hooing at you

When men think big
And by golly they do
They don't wanna go crying
Boo-hooing at you

. . .


My baby says I mistreat her
I don't know about that
I only know when I beat her
She like to call me a -

She keeps on playing those b-side records
All day long in the flat
They're a little bit obscure she says
I call her a -

B-side baby
And that's that
She's just a b-side baby
And that's a fact

I think punk is an overused word
As a matter of fact
I hate joey ramone when he says
He's gonna beat on a -
He's going to find himself d-d-down an alley
With his face beaten flat
And a spray job in bright pink letters, saying
B-r-a-t spells

B-side baby

. . .


Party's over, it's time to change
Shoes away I neatly arrange
Next the hairdo
On the block
Put away my lovely frock
T.V.-T.V.

Underwear all tidied away
Thirty eight bust just for a day
Heels so high
My furs so fine
All a woman's things, they are mine
T.V. - T.V.

Oh, I'm a joyous glad T.V.
Why don't you come T.V. with me?
I know a girl who loves to dress me
Up like this and then caress me
To remind me of the way
I used to go both night and day
In femininity there's pride
We'll marry soon
I'll be the bride

Chi Chi Pamela or Barbara
What a good girl you really are
Poetry is awful, so is your prose
What's your gender?
No one knows
T.V. - T.V.

Oh, I'm a joyous glad T.V.
Why don't you come T.V. with me?
I know a girl who loves to dress me
Up like this and then caress me
To remind me of the way
I used to go both night and day
In femininity there's pride
We'll marry soon
I'll be the bride

T.V. - T.V.

I'm a joyous glad T.V.
Why don't you come T.V. with me?
I know a girl who loves to dress me
Up like this and then caress me
To remind me of the way
I used to go both night and day
In femininity there's pride
We'll marry soon
I'll be the bride

Oh, I'm a joyous glad T.V.
Why don't you come T.V. with me?
I know a girl who loves to dress me
Up like this and then caress me

. . .


Hey ho strike
Hey ho strike

O lucky lucky lucky me
I can live here in luxury
Can't answer your simplicity (oh no)
You've got to stop your grumbling
And all that human bondage den
And try to make a man of me

Hey ho strike one
Last one in's a son of a gun

Hey ho strike two
Can't fight here, this is the war room

Oh never never let me go
The flaming flesh that wonder hole
Where violence equals zero (oh no)
You've got to stop your grumbling
And all that human bondage den
Beef cake and custard to a big hero

Hey ho strike one
Last one in's a son of a gun

Hey ho strike two
Can't fight here, this is the war room

Can't fight here, this is the war room

So kiss me quickly who'll oblige?
Oh come along and don't be shy
Don't be all surface no insides (oh no)
You've got to stop your grumbling
And all that human bondage den
So swear the heat in baby
No neck ties

Hey ho strike one
Last one in's a son of a gun

Hey ho strike two
Can't fight here, this is the war room

Hey ho strike three
Action stations I'm ready

Hey ho strike four
My durango supercar

Hey ho strike five
Wake up now its time to die

Hey ho strike six
Flopnik kaputnik

Hey ho strike seven
Kissing at five, necking at eleven

Hey ho strike eight
Decided to co-operate

Hey ho strike nine
Gonna have us a crackin'good time

Hey ho strike ten
Flowers, bullets, zen and zen

. . .


You're So Phy-si-cal!

Eat your heart out Do-it
You can't do it, can ya?

I wanna date you maybe
I wanna take you out
I wanna wine and dine you
I wanna twist and twist and shout

I want you hard in my arms
So soft on my bed
And you get the keys to my heart
When you wear that sweet dress (you know the short one)

But you're so physical
Physical for me
You're just too physical
Physical for me

I want your rough house maybe
And I want this right in your ear
You let me feel your danger
I let you make this feeling clear (ooh ooh)

I want the touch of your charms
The heat of your breath (aah)
I want to say all those things (those dirty things)
That would be better unsaid

But you're so physical
Physical for me
You're just too physical
Physical for me

(And you'd better listen to Marco!)

Ohh you're so physical ooooh (4 times)

. . .


I'm sick of coming home and watching TV
I just can't stand it when you sit next to me

It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
I'll get by with another
B-b-baby go to hell

Our perspiration's brought the wallpaper down
I just can't stand it when you walk into town

It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
'Cos I'll get by with another
B-b-baby go to (like this)

There's so much trouble when we go for a bite
They say the food is off and they start to fight

It doesn't matter
It doesn't matter
I'll get by with another
B-b-baby you -
Yes you do you -
Oh oh oh oh oh you -
Like this

The CD-booklet has an extra verse on this song, but it's NOT in this (censored) version:
I'd like to kiss you baby, fall for your charms
But that's all over when you lift up your arms

. . .


I've got a fetish for you
A fetish for me
A fetish for coffee
I've got a fetish for tea
I've got a fetish for Brando
A fetish for cats
A fetish for ladies in Christian Dior hats

I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
So very sick
(No go, Tibbs)

Any more for the Christian D'or?
Any more for the Christian D'or?
Any more for the Christian D'or?
Christian D'or?
Christian D'or?
Christian D'or?

Got a fetish for black
A fetish for green
A fetish for those arty magazines
I've got a fetish for blondes
A fetish for blondes
A fetish for blondes
A fetish for blonde haired girls

I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
So very sick
(Take it)

Any more for the Christian D'or?
Any more for the Christian D'or?
Any more for the Christian D'or?
Christian D'or?
Christian D'or?
Christian D'or?

Big man
Big shoes
No style
Damp squibs
Retard

Big man (solid coffee)
Big man (you can do it)
Big man (push 'em back)
Big man (way back)
Sure can

I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
So very sick
(Antpeople)

Any more for the Christian D'or?
Any more for the Christian D'or?
Any more for the Christian D'or?
Christian D'or
Christian D'or
Christian D'or

I've got a fetish for yes
A fetish for no
A fetish for Robert De Niro
I've got a fetish for blondes
A fetish for blondes
A fetish for blondes
A fetish for brown haired girls

I've got a fetish and that means
I've got a fetish and that means
I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
So very sick
I've got a fetish and that means
I've got a fetish and that means
I've got a fetish and that means I'm sick
So very sick

Big man (any more for the Christian D'or?)
Big shoes (any more for the Christian D'or?)
No style (any more for the Christian D'or?)
Damp squibs (Christian D'or)
Retard (Christian D'or)
Big man (Christian D'or) (repeat till end)

. . .

Viva le Rock (Instrumental Dub Mix)

[Нет текста]

. . .


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