(Turn me up) Two thousand seventy-five
The freeways were still alive
See the people for miles and miles
Two-zero-seven-five We were searching for a place to hide
Easy rider meets the end of time
You were young, and I was wild
Two-zero-seven-five And they blew down the buildings
And we stood in lines for bread
Just like Mother Russia back when she was still Red Ding-dong! the witch is dead!
Ding-dong! the witch is dead!
Ding-dong! the witch is dead, she's dead!
From the shores of Nantucket to Los Angeles
She was swallowed up in petty greed In New York City, the sun doesn't shine
And Hollywood is covered in vines
They dug up treasure from the Mayan Times
Two-zero-seven-nine
But the fire in their breast burned like a funeral pyre The museums are closing
And the animals all fled
Deep down in the city
Liberty's lost her head Ding-dong! the witch is dead!
Ding-dong! the witch is dead!
Ding-dong! the witch, she's dead! (We hope)
From the shores of Nantucket to Los Angeles
She was swallowed up in her own greed So tell me a story, and make it sweet, Like a tale from a dream
There's a city of gold
Up in the sky, a place where we'll never die
You and me will never die Two-zero-ninety-nine
Two-zero-ninety-nine
Two-zero-ninety-nine (nine)
Two-zero-ninety-nine
Two-zero-ninety-nine (two-zero-nine, oh).
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
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