Tamanho do texto:
From the album "Broken Freedom Song: Live from San Fransisco." I don't know if it's
available elsewhere; I know he wrote it when he was in the Army, and they played it
in Vietnam. Funny song. Enjoy.
GEvery mornin at line you'd see him arrive
He stood Cfive-foot-six about one-eighty-five
About as bDroad at the shoulder as he was at the hip
D/AEverybody knew he didn't give a shit, sky kGing
Now some say Sky was born in New Orleans
Where he built hisself a rotor on a sewing machine
Cut his teeth on a collective pitch
Old Sky was a low flyin son of a bitch, sky king
Sky CKing
Sky DKing
Short fat Gsky
And then came a day at Stage Field Nine
When his engine failed and men started cryin
And sirens screamed and hearts beat fast
And everybody thought he'd breathed his last, 'cept Sky
Well he pushed that collective on down through the floor
But the damn rotorblade wouldn't turn anymore
So his butt puckered up and with a frightening sound
He just sucked that old chopper up off of the ground, Sky King
GThe ship wasn't hurt but it took half the class
To Cget the seat cover out of Sky King's ass, Sky GKing
GWell they never reopened that landing strip
They just Cput a marble stand on top of it
And tDhese few words are written on that Dthing
G (let ring)
Ain't a butt that can pucker like old Sky King's
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