(Ian Hunter)
|
|
Forgot my six-string razor - hit the sky
|
Half way to Memphis 'fore I realised
|
Well I rang the information - my axe was cold
|
They said she rides the train to Oreoles
|
|
Now its a mighty long way down the dusty trail
|
And the sun burns hot on the cold steel rails
|
'N I look like a bum 'n I crawl like a snail
|
All the way from Memphis
|
|
Well I got to Oreoles y'know - it took a month
|
And there was my guitar, electric junk.
|
Some spade said "Rock'n'rollers, you're all the same.
|
Man that's your instrument." I felt so ashamed.
|
|
Now its a mighty long way down rock'n'roll
|
Through the Bradford Cities and the Oreoles
|
'N you look like a star but you're still on the dole
|
All the way from Memphis
|
|
Yeah it's a mighty long way down rock'n'roll
|
From the Liverpool docks to the Hollywood Bowl
|
'N you climb up the mountains 'n you fall down the holes
|
All the way from Memphis
|
|
Yeah its a mighty long way down rock'n'roll
|
As your name gets hot so your heart grows cold
|
'N you gotta stay young man, you can never be old
|
All the way from Memphis
|
|
Yeah its a mighty long way down rock'n'roll
|
Through the Bradford Cities and the Oreoles
|
'N you look like a star but you're really out on parole!
|
All the way from Memphis
|
|
-----------------
|
All The Way From Memphis
|
| Mott the Hoople |