Testo Life During Wartime - David Byrne
Testo della canzone Life During Wartime (David Byrne), tratta dall'album Live From Austin, TX
Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons, packed up and ready to go
Heard of some grave sites out by the highway, a place where nobody knows
The sound of gunfire off in the distance, I'm getting used to it now
Lived in a brownstone, I lived in the ghetto, I've lived all over this town
This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
This ain't no fooling around
This ain't no Mudd Club, or C.B.G.B
I ain't got time for that now
Transmit the message to the receiver, hope for an answer some day
I got three passports, a couple of visas you don't even know my real name
High on a hillside trucks are loading, everything's ready to roll
I sleep in the daytime, I work in the nighttime, I might not ever get home
This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
This ain't no fooling around
This ain't no Mudd Club, or C.B.G.B
I ain't got time for that now
This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
This ain't no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey-dovey
I ain't got time for that now
Heard about Houston? Heard about Detroit?
Heard about Pittsburgh, PA?
You oughta know not to stand by the window, somebody might see you up there
I got some groceries, some peanut butter, to last a couple of days
But I ain't got no speakers, ain't I got no headphones and
Ain't got no records to play
Why stay in college? Why go to night school? Gonna be different this time
Can't write a letter, can't send a postcard, I can't write, nothing at all
This ain't no party, this ain't no disco
This ain't no fooling around
I'd love you hold you, I'd like to kiss you but
I ain't got no time for that now
Trouble in transit, got through the roadblock
We blended in with the crowd
We ain't got computers, but we're tapping phone lines
I know that ain't allowed
We dress like students, we dress like housewives
Or in a suit and a tie
I changed my hairstyle so many times now
I don't know what I look like
You make me shiver, I feel so tender
We make a pretty good team
Don't get exhausted, I'll do some driving
You ought to get you some sleep
Burned all my notebooks, what good are notebooks?
They won't help me survive
My chest is aching at me, burns like a furnace
The burning keeps me alive
Thank you, thank you
This is a song my mother used to sing me, when I was little
Credits
Writer(s): David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Jerry Harrison, Chris Franz
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