Texto
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Transportador
Cor de Fundo
Ferramentas
Tamanho
Tamanho
Altura
Altura
E
No copulation, no revolution
A
Said the young Marquis de Sade
E
But all the whips in France ain't gonna get me
F# B
in' on a barracade
E
From the schoolboys on it was one big con
A
As we hung around the hockey teams
E
In each boys brain the dream was the same
F# B
All I ever went to do is get laid
E
Now the whole wide world has a better idea
A
And it shook us all to the core
E
You follow some two-year fairy tale
F# B#
Into happy evermore
E
The sleepy priest at the bridal feast
A
His hands make a holy sign
E F# G# A
And as the bride hoes into the wedding cake
B
She's a-singin' in the back of her mind
B
Come on, come on
E
I'm gonna roll ya all night long .
REPEAT
. .
Well I took that crap for a little while
And it kept me off the street
Then I met me a lady with a shady past
And manners like a dog on heat
Those musos hummin' when they see her comin'
Make a noise like a hurricane
When you see that line at the dressing-room door
You know she's just spread 'em for the boys again
Well there ain't nothin' better than to rip your sweater
In a bang behind the stage
Or the drawn out sigh as you feel her thigh
Then you stop and estimate her age
If she's turned fourteen she's a rock'n'roll queen
You can give her anything you choose
And when she whispers Honey it's the money or the box
You know money's so easy to lose
Come on, come on
I'm gonna roll ya all night long . . .
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