Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
A cut-price empire
Clean-cut lines
A perfect body
And a dirty mind
The rules of this game
Say we all look the same
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
We'll put a spin on it
We'll take a pencil to it
We'll make a virtue out of
Keeping oh so quiet about it
I don't know, and I don't want to know
I don't know, and I don't want to know
I don't know, and I don't want to know
I don't know, and I don't want to know
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Talk about child's play
Count the birthdays
A stitch in time says...
Just look the other way
The rules of this game
Say you don't know her name
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
We'll span a hundred years for it
We'll make a killing out of it
And we'll corner the market
By keeping oh so quiet about it
Working for The Gap
Sewing up crap
One up the chimney goes
Two hawks a tray of matches
Three braves the weaving floor
All pray for the life of Four
Five down the pit descends
Six ploughs in fields and meadows
Seven spins the handloom round
Eight lies in the burial ground.
Chain, chain, chain
A cut-price empire
Clean-cut lines
A perfect body
And a dirty mind
The rules of this game
Say we all look the same
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
We'll put a spin on it
We'll take a pencil to it
We'll make a virtue out of
Keeping oh so quiet about it
I don't know, and I don't want to know
I don't know, and I don't want to know
I don't know, and I don't want to know
I don't know, and I don't want to know
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
Talk about child's play
Count the birthdays
A stitch in time says...
Just look the other way
The rules of this game
Say you don't know her name
Chain, chain, chain
Chain, chain, chain
We'll span a hundred years for it
We'll make a killing out of it
And we'll corner the market
By keeping oh so quiet about it
Working for The Gap
Sewing up crap
One up the chimney goes
Two hawks a tray of matches
Three braves the weaving floor
All pray for the life of Four
Five down the pit descends
Six ploughs in fields and meadows
Seven spins the handloom round
Eight lies in the burial ground.
inviata da giorgio - 16/8/2008 - 13:45
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