Настроить

By: Jimmy Buffett 
1975 
Chorus: 
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus (oh my lordy it's that...) 
It's that kind of mornin' 
Really was that kind of night 
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' 
And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night 

Went down to the snake pit 
To drink a little beer 
Listen to the jukebox 
Merle was comin' in clear 

All of a sudden I wad'n alone 
Pickin' country music with ol' Joe Bones 
Duval Street was rockin' 
My eyes they starting poppin' 

Because there she sat at the corner of the bar 
As I broke another string on my ol' guitar 
Someone call a cab 
Lady won'tcha pay my tab 

Chorus: 
And now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus 
(oh my lordy it's that...) 
It's that kinda mornin' 
Really was that kinda night 
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' 
And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night 

Gotta get a little orange juice 
And a Darvon for my head 
I can't spend all day 
Baby layin' in the bed 

I'm goin' down to Fausto's get some chocolate milk 
Can't spend my life in yer sheets of silk 
I've got to find my way 
Crawl out and greet the day 

Chorus: 
But now my head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus 
(oh my lordy it's that...) 
It's that kinda mornin' 
Really was that kinda night 
Tryin' to tell myself that my condition is improvin' 
And if I don't die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night 

Let me tell ya, I be roarin' Friday night 
I mean I'll be 
Roarin' 
Friday 
Night

Видео-клип к песне My Head Hurts My Feet Stink And I Don't Love Jesus

Размести это видео у себя на сайте:

Код видео
скопирован в буфер