a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de genre in a drum - jonathan larson

(narration)
there are people hanging around in clubs
who don’t deserve to live-
and they don’t even know it
which is why they must die

they’re the people who group in doorways, hallways and on stairs-
chatting among themselves about themselves
while you wait forever for them to move-
but they never move

usually, more friends join them in the narrow passageway-
causing a clog more irritating than hair and grease in a drain
when you ask them to excuse you-
they either ignore you or create an unpleasant situation

at that point your only option is to shoot them
no jury of your peers would convict you

(chorus: it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll…)
it’s at times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll

did i say that?
what has happened to me?
i think i’ve lost the will to attend
it’s party this, dinner that – or vice versa-
i get confused
it’s like i’ve already been there, even if it’s a different place
i have the same conversations every night
is this black tie or creative?
is this an open bar or do i need a drink ticket?
is this a birthday, anniversary or an opening?
will there be dinner?
are we in c-cktails yet?
i’m sorry- have we met?

do you work here, or is it your party?
or do i have to shoot you?
did i just say that?
where am i?

i’m wandering

(chorus: it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll…)
it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll

see why i get confused?
i arrived ninety minutes late and wasn’t late
seating became a game of musical chairs
my tablemates and i were too busy gossiping about
everyone else to notice if we were eating
it was a remarkably dull event
around and on the lighted stairway
were a number of flashing signs with cryptic, meaningful statements
i can’t tell you any of the statements because i couldn’t stand there
forever and read them-who could?

if everyone stood on the stairs reading them
they would cause a major congestion and
i would have to shoot them

(chorus: it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll…)
it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll

there was no dinner
i don’t enjoy a party
that promises dinner and then doesn’t serve it

it’s like i wasn’t even there-
or had always been there
you’d think i’d remember rockets…

then i had a nuclear c-cktail
i don’t know what was in it-
but thinking about it gives me a headache

i barely remember the rest of the evening
it was very nice-
with no major happening to report
almost bittersweet- but not really
or was it?
i’m wandering again

by the way
if you’re listening to this on the stairs
or over there in the doorway-
i can see you and you’d better move
i have a gun

(chorus: it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll…)
it’s times like these i wish i were licensed to k!ll

- jonathan larson

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS