РозыгрышТекст песни: Be Bop Deluxe - Jets At Dawn
Woke this morning the war was over
The radio was singing love songs
Saw the smiles upon the soldiers,
Coming home across the fields
The calendar said first of August
Romance and promises of summer days,
I strolled unclothed into the garden
To feel the warm sun on my face
The saving of the human race...
Jets at dawn trail across the sky
Silver birds writing words for airmans wives
Who down below hang the washing out to dry
Frilly briefs and flying helmets in a line
Jets at dawn, writing in the sky
Silver planes (vapour trails),
Drawing coca-cola signs
To advertise above the cities and the towns
Flying high across the sea beyond the clouds.
Said goodbye to the others
The old musicians of the past
Said hello to the young things
Oh, your songs are here to sing at last
Drank the wine of the new vine
Growing wild inside my heart
I saw the future age had risen,
Time to make a brand new start
Time to see beyond the dark...
Jets at dawn, trails across the sky
Silver birds, writing words for airmens wives...
From Phil Brookes
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Woke this morning the war was over
The radio was singing love songs
Saw the smiles upon the soldiers,
Coming home across the fields
The calendar said first of August
Romance and promises of summer days,
I strolled unclothed into the garden
To feel the warm sun on my face
The saving of the human race...
Jets at dawn trail across the sky
Silver birds writing words for airmans wives
Who down below hang the washing out to dry
Frilly briefs and flying helmets in a line
Jets at dawn, writing in the sky
Silver planes (vapour trails),
Drawing coca-cola signs
To advertise above the cities and the towns
Flying high across the sea beyond the clouds.
Said goodbye to the others
The old musicians of the past
Said hello to the young things
Oh, your songs are here to sing at last
Drank the wine of the new vine
Growing wild inside my heart
I saw the future age had risen,
Time to make a brand new start
Time to see beyond the dark...
Jets at dawn, trails across the sky
Silver birds, writing words for airmens wives...
From Phil Brookes
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