Goalscrounger's 30 Day Music Challenge - Day 3 - Wednesday 8th April - A Song That Reminds You Of School
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The vomiting vicar
Well-known member
Erimus same here but in 73 fancied the pants off a girl in our school luckily I got to go out with her when this came out
goalscrounger
Well-known member
Here we go with a revisit of day 3!
Johnny Vincents Motorbike
Well-known member
Slade - roaring this out on the school bus - upstairs, ov course !!
asredastheycome
Well-known member
Palaces of Gold - Leon Rosselson
If the sons of company directors
And judges' private daughters
Had to go to school in a slum school
Dumped by some joker in a damp back alley
Had to herd into classrooms cramped with worry
With a view onto slag heaps and stagnant pools
Had to file through corridors greyed with age
And play in a crackpot concrete cage
Buttons would be pressed
Rules would be broken
Strings would be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers would mould
Palaces of gold
If prime ministers and advertising executives
Royal personages and bank managers' wives
Had to live out their lives in dank rooms
Blinded by smoke and the foul air of sewers
Rot on the walls and rats in the cellars
In rows of dumb houses like mouldering tombs
Had to bring up their children and watch them grow
In a wasteland of dead streets where nothing will grow
Buttons would be pressed
Rules would be broken
Strings would be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers would mould
Palaces of gold
I'm not suggesting any sort of a plot
Everyone knows there's not
But you unborn millions might like to be warned
That if you don't want to be buried alive by slag heaps
Pitfalls and damp walls and rat traps and dead streets
Arrange to be democratically born
The son of a company director
Or a judge's fine and private daughter
Buttons will be pressed
Rules will be broken
Strings will be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers will mould
Palaces of gold
https://lyricstranslate.com
Palaces of Gold
If the sons of company directors
And judges' private daughters
Had to go to school in a slum school
Dumped by some joker in a damp back alley
Had to herd into classrooms cramped with worry
With a view onto slag heaps and stagnant pools
Had to file through corridors greyed with age
And play in a crackpot concrete cage
Buttons would be pressed
Rules would be broken
Strings would be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers would mould
Palaces of gold
If prime ministers and advertising executives
Royal personages and bank managers' wives
Had to live out their lives in dank rooms
Blinded by smoke and the foul air of sewers
Rot on the walls and rats in the cellars
In rows of dumb houses like mouldering tombs
Had to bring up their children and watch them grow
In a wasteland of dead streets where nothing will grow
Buttons would be pressed
Rules would be broken
Strings would be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers would mould
Palaces of gold
I'm not suggesting any sort of a plot
Everyone knows there's not
But you unborn millions might like to be warned
That if you don't want to be buried alive by slag heaps
Pitfalls and damp walls and rat traps and dead streets
Arrange to be democratically born
The son of a company director
Or a judge's fine and private daughter
Buttons will be pressed
Rules will be broken
Strings will be pulled
And magic words spoken
Invisible fingers will mould
Palaces of gold
https://lyricstranslate.com
boroboy6872
Well-known member
swordtrombonefish
Well-known member
Chuck Berry - My Ding-a-Ling
Norman_Conquest
Well-known member
I always remember coming home from Derby a lad at the petrol station dancing to this. I tried to copy some of his moves when I got home but tied myself in a reef knot.