The House of Blue Lights
Ella Mae Morse« The House of Blue Lights » est une chanson de Ella Mae Morse, 1992, Pop. La chanson dure 2:22, 33 lines / 250 words.
Paroles
0:10Well wha-ah-ahtcha say Baby
0:21You look ready as Mr Freddie this black
0:23How 'bout you an' me goin' spinnin' at the track
0:26What's that Homey
0:27If you think I'm goin' dancin' on a dime
0:29Your clock is tickin' on the wrong time
0:32Well what's your pleasure Treasure
0:35You call the plays I'll dig the ways
0:37Hey Daddio
0:38I'm not so crude as to drop my mood
0:40On a square 1 from way back
0:42I'm in there and have to dig life with Father
0:45And I mean Father Slack 2
0:47Well Baby your play gives my wig a solid flip
0:50You snap the whip I'll make the trip
0:52Well lace up your boots and we'll broom on down
0:56To a knocked-out shack on the edge of town
0:59There's an eight-beat combo that just won't quit
1:02Keep walkin' till you see a blue light lit
1:05Fall in there and we'll see some sights
1:08At the House of Blue Lights
1:11There's fryers and broilers
1:14And Detroit barbecue ribs
1:17But the treat of the treats
1:19Is when they serve you those fine eight beats
1:23You'll want to spend the rest of your brights
1:26Down at the House the House of Blue Lights
2:06Ey we'll have a time and we'll cut some rug
2:10While we dig those tunes like they should be dug
2:13It's a real homecomin' for all those cats
2:16Just trilly down a path of welcome mats
2:19Fall in there and we'll see some sights
2:22At the House the House of Blue Lights
Well wha-ah-ahtcha say Baby You look ready as Mr Freddie this black How 'bout you an' me goin' spinnin' at the track What's that Homey If you think I'm goin' dancin' on a dime Your clock is tickin' on the wrong time Well what's your pleasure Treasure You call the plays I'll dig the ways Hey Daddio I'm not so crude as to drop my mood On a square 1 from way back I'm in there and have to dig life with Father And I mean Father Slack 2 Well Baby your play gives my wig a solid flip You snap the whip I'll make the trip Well lace up your boots and we'll broom on down To a knocked-out shack on the edge of town There's an eight-beat combo that just won't quit Keep walkin' till you see a blue light lit Fall in there and we'll see some sights At the House of Blue Lights There's fryers and broilers And Detroit barbecue ribs But the treat of the treats Is when they serve you those fine eight beats You'll want to spend the rest of your brights Down at the House the House of Blue Lights Ey we'll have a time and we'll cut some rug While we dig those tunes like they should be dug It's a real homecomin' for all those cats Just trilly down a path of welcome mats Fall in there and we'll see some sights At the House the House of Blue Lights
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