find, it_s monday and she's gotta grind. A Job as a waitress she sure was to find, beautiful face, mind of a child. Boy got her pregnant, Mary-Lou
No presents, no candy, no treat No stockings hung by the fire No parties, no family to greet No angel's heavenly choirs Bells are ringing all over the
A dream in a jar A memory scar Though trapped in a frame Not one day the same I fell and I weep 'til I'm too tired to sleep And I ask permission to land
Satisfies your mind can't save your soul Would you die for rock 'n' roll Get your feet moving your hands in the air Scream it out everywhere Until
Translation: Mario Lanza. The Show Has Ended.
(J.Cardona - GOLD/E.Wandelmer-GOLD) D'accord pour les cris d'angoisse Qui vous ont fait pleurer Contre la mort qui menace Nous sommes a vos cotes Mais
Et si on parlait un peut Sans lever le ton Sans mettre le feu Pour que ce qui reste soit plus precieux Commencons par toi Sans effet de honte sans