Ana Ng They Might Be Giants
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Ana Ng" от They Might Be Giants. Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.
[Verse 1: John Linnell]
Make a hole with a gun perpendicular
To the name of this town in a desktop globe
Exit wound in a foreign nation
Showing the home of the one this was written for
My apartment looks upside down from there
Water spirals the wrong way out the sink
And her voice is a backwards record
It's like a whirlpool and it never ends
[Chorus: John Linnell, (John Flansburgh)]
(Ann)
Ana Ng and I are getting old and we still haven't walked
In the glow of each other's majestic presence
(Listen Ann)
Listen Ana, hear my words, they're the ones you would think
I would say if there was a me for you
[Verse 2: John Linnell]
All alone at the '64 World's Fair
Eighty dolls yelling "Small girl after all"
Who was at the DuPont Pavilion?
Why was the bench still warm? Who had been there?
Or the time when the storm tangled up the wire
To the horn on the pole at the bus depot
And in back of the edge of hearing
These are the words that the voice was repeating:
Make a hole with a gun perpendicular
To the name of this town in a desktop globe
Exit wound in a foreign nation
Showing the home of the one this was written for
My apartment looks upside down from there
Water spirals the wrong way out the sink
And her voice is a backwards record
It's like a whirlpool and it never ends
[Chorus: John Linnell, (John Flansburgh)]
(Ann)
Ana Ng and I are getting old and we still haven't walked
In the glow of each other's majestic presence
(Listen Ann)
Listen Ana, hear my words, they're the ones you would think
I would say if there was a me for you
[Verse 2: John Linnell]
All alone at the '64 World's Fair
Eighty dolls yelling "Small girl after all"
Who was at the DuPont Pavilion?
Why was the bench still warm? Who had been there?
Or the time when the storm tangled up the wire
To the horn on the pole at the bus depot
And in back of the edge of hearing
These are the words that the voice was repeating:
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