Letra de Please Mr Gravedigger - David Bowie
Letra de canci�n de Please Mr Gravedigger de David Bowie lyrics
There's a little churchyard just along the way
Used to be Lambeth's finest array
Of tombstones, epitaphs, wreaths, flowers, all that jazz
Till the war came along, and someone dropped a bomb on the lot
And in this little yard, there's a little old man
With a little shovel in his little bitty hand
He seems to spend all his days puffing fags and digging graves
He hates the reverend vicar, and he lives all alone, in his home
Ah-choo... excuse me...
Please Mr. Gravedigger, don't feel ashamed
As you dig little holes for the dead and the maimed
Please Mr. Gravedigger, I couldn't care
If you found a golden locket full of some girl's hair
And you put it in your pocket
God, it's pouring down...
Her mother doesn't know about your sentimental joy
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/please-mr-gravedigger-david-bowie.php
She thinks it's down below with the rest of her toys
And Ma wouldn't understand, so I won't tell
So keep your golden locket all safely hid away in your pocket
Yes, Mr. GD, you see me every day
Stand... achoo...
Standing in the same spot by a certain grave
Mary-Ann was only 10, full of life and oh so gay
And I was the wicked man who took her life away
Very selfish, Oh God
No, Mr. GD, you won't tell
And just to make sure that you keep it to yourself
I've started digging holes, my friend
And this one here's for you
"Lifted our girl, she apparently doesn't know of it
Hello misses, thought she'd be a little girl
Bloody obscene, catch pneumonia or something in this rain"
Used to be Lambeth's finest array
Of tombstones, epitaphs, wreaths, flowers, all that jazz
Till the war came along, and someone dropped a bomb on the lot
And in this little yard, there's a little old man
With a little shovel in his little bitty hand
He seems to spend all his days puffing fags and digging graves
He hates the reverend vicar, and he lives all alone, in his home
Ah-choo... excuse me...
Please Mr. Gravedigger, don't feel ashamed
As you dig little holes for the dead and the maimed
Please Mr. Gravedigger, I couldn't care
If you found a golden locket full of some girl's hair
And you put it in your pocket
God, it's pouring down...
Her mother doesn't know about your sentimental joy
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/please-mr-gravedigger-david-bowie.php
She thinks it's down below with the rest of her toys
And Ma wouldn't understand, so I won't tell
So keep your golden locket all safely hid away in your pocket
Yes, Mr. GD, you see me every day
Stand... achoo...
Standing in the same spot by a certain grave
Mary-Ann was only 10, full of life and oh so gay
And I was the wicked man who took her life away
Very selfish, Oh God
No, Mr. GD, you won't tell
And just to make sure that you keep it to yourself
I've started digging holes, my friend
And this one here's for you
"Lifted our girl, she apparently doesn't know of it
Hello misses, thought she'd be a little girl
Bloody obscene, catch pneumonia or something in this rain"
