Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Livin’ in America , by - Black 47. Release date: 16.03.2021
Song language: English
Livin’ in America |
| Oh, it’s 6 o’clock and it’s time to rock |
| And me head is beatin' like a drum |
| In the cold grey light, ah I feel like shite |
| And I can’t remember last night’s fun |
| Then the foreman says «C'mon now boys |
| Stick your fingers down your throat and get to work» |
| And I wish to Christ I’d stayed home last night |
| Instead of drinkin' in America |
| Oh, I knock down walls with big iron balls |
| And I mix cement by the ton |
| With me tongue hangin' out for a bottle of stout |
| Sweatin' bullets in the Brooklyn sun |
| Then I think of her up on Kingsbridge Road |
| Did she mean what she said last night |
| Oh Mammy dear, we’re all mad over here… |
| Livin' in America |
| On me way downtown, I think of that clown |
| And the things that he said last night |
| Did he mean 'em at all or was it just drink talk |
| Oh, I must look a terrible sight |
| Put me makeup on as I watch the sun rise high over Fordham Road |
| Oh Mammy dear, we’re all mad over here |
| Livin' in America |
| Ah, the kids aren’t dressed and the house is a mess |
| And the yuppies are networkin' again |
| Kiss their darlin’s goodbye — «oh, we’ll be late tonight |
| But we should be home by eleven» |
| Oh, me little dears dry up your tears |
| Your parents are too busy makin' money |
| Oh Mammy dear, we’re all mad over here |
| Livin' in America |
| Workin' with the black man, Dominican and Greek |
| In the snows of January or the drenchin' August heat |
| No sick days or benefits and for Christ sakes don’t get hurt |
| The quacks over here won’t patch you up unless they see the bucks upfront |
| Lookin' after babies fron crack of dawn 'til dusk |
| Changin' dirty nappies and cleanin' up the house |
| Is this what I’ve been educated for |
| To wipe the arse of every baby in America |
| Now the day is done, take the subway home |
| Squashed up like some sardine in a a can |
| In the Blarney Stone, drink a gallon of foam |
| 'Til I’m feelin' half meself again |
| If she comes tonight, I’ll ask her outright |
| Ah what the hell, nothin' ventured nothin' gained… |
| And if she takes a chance, she might find romance |
| Now she’s livin' in America |
| See him standing there with the ring in his ear |
| And the grin on the side of his face |
| With the fag in his mouth, oh I should watch out |
| For they say that he’s a real hard case |
| Should I take me chance or say «no thanks» |
| Ah what the hell, nothin' ventured nothin' gained |
| Oh Mammy dear, we’re all mad over here |
| Livin' in America |