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Pete Townshend
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English Boy
Lyricist:Peter Townshend
Hello, Ruth Streeting Here once again with 'Streeting's Street' Where you get the word straight from the street This is the show that dishes the dirt on the dirt Strictly no rock star bullshit on my show
I don't review pop anymore I talk about anything I like or anything I hate Talking of which, remember That clapped-out 60's hell-raiser Ray High? Rumor has it the sad old lush can't do it anymore I mean, make records
I'm an English boy, I was brought up right Hold me down and I will bite I know no fear, I serve with joy I'm proud to be here an English boy
I feel like a stray dog Blurred like a movie You say you've come to arrest me But you're just trying to test me
I'm bored with your prejudice Spreading like a fever Your promises to train me Are just attempts to restrain me
I'm an English boy, precisely made You can pin me down, I am not afraid I show no fear, I will serve with joy I'm proud to be here, an English boy
Use me like a headline Cut pieces to pieces I'm black on the tube line Red on the touch-line
Freezing up the future Stopping every stopwatch You say we're moving like an oil slick Thicker than a house brick
I'm an English boy, I was brought up right If you raise your dress then I will bite My voice is clear, I got perfect poise Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Good to be down here with other English boys
And I don't know where I am now Or where I'm gonna go I just keep going 'round and 'round on the circle line Like some demented kind a commuta Trying to avoid paying for my ticket
I'm a lost soul I read about myself in the newspapers I'm a pig, I'm a thug I've got nowhere to go but down
I hear his manager, Rastus Knight Is pulling what's left of his hair out The only thing Ray's writing these days Are large checks to his booze merchants
He's a serious recluse now Hasn't seen daylight or another woman Since his old lady walked out two years ago. Poor little sausage, brooding in that Twenty-two room glass mansion Life's a bitch and so am I
Feel like I'm kicking at a dead man Kicking in the chorus I'm broken by hatred While politicians just ignore us
You never gave me any value You didn't give me any reason There's no tools and no toys For any English boys
I'm an English boy, I was brought up right Hold me down and I will bite I know no fear, I will serve with joy I'm proud to be here, an English boy, yeah
I'm an English boy, yeah I'm an English boy I'm an English boy No tools, no toys for any English boy English boy, English boy
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