Well, my name is "Fingers Murphy" but my story's seldom told, I massacre folk music with a yard of German plywood and a plectrum, I do requests-just the ones that have two chords in, And I disregard the rest, Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .
Well, I stand on stage the hero a martyr to me trade, And carry the reminders of all the gigs I've played in like the Irish Club-in Luton, Where I fled in mortal fear-with the imprint of a Guinness bottle stamped across my ear Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .
Seeking twenty with expenses I went looking for a gig Got no offers--just a come on from a groupie up in Neasden, I do declare--I was feeling rather randy so I had her then and there, Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .
Na na na-ya Na na na na na na na-ya Na na na-ya Na na na na na na na-ya Na na na-ya Na na na na na na na-ya
Well, I've sung the full tradition with my finger in my ear, Cause half the stuff I'm singin'-I just can't bear to hear-it's a load of cobblers, Bar after bar--to the rhythm of an out of tune Japanese guitar Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .
Well, I met this great guitarist-I asked him for advice, But the message that he gave me--wasn't very nice or even civil, Stick it where--and if I did how could I tune it with it stuck way up there, Na na nya na na na na na na nya etc . . .Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
