Hands In Your Pocket歌词
歌手：Richard Marx 专辑：Rush Street
作词 : Marx
作曲 : Richard Marx
Hands in Your Pocket
We're all victims of the system
Still we love to place the blame
We're running out of choices
And there's no rules to the game
I'm getting tired of feeling this way
What can a single man do, what can he say
Everyday you walk the edge of a knife
You're left with nothing at the end of your life
They've got their hands in your pocket
They;ll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
They'll stop you like a heart attack
We put people into power but we fight our wars alone
They take such good care of the rest of the world
But what about the folks at home, oh yeah
Point the finger at the man you chose
He'll say he's sorry but it's just the way it goes
He sits in judgement like a king on a throne
'Till that November when he'll beg for a bone
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
Brother, don't ignore the facts
Everyday of you walk the edge of a knife
You're left with nothing at the end of your life
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
They'll stop you like a heart attack
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll stop you like a heart attack
作曲 : Richard Marx
Hands in Your Pocket
We're all victims of the system
Still we love to place the blame
We're running out of choices
And there's no rules to the game
I'm getting tired of feeling this way
What can a single man do, what can he say
Everyday you walk the edge of a knife
You're left with nothing at the end of your life
They've got their hands in your pocket
They;ll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
They'll stop you like a heart attack
We put people into power but we fight our wars alone
They take such good care of the rest of the world
But what about the folks at home, oh yeah
Point the finger at the man you chose
He'll say he's sorry but it's just the way it goes
He sits in judgement like a king on a throne
'Till that November when he'll beg for a bone
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
Brother, don't ignore the facts
Everyday of you walk the edge of a knife
You're left with nothing at the end of your life
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
Hands in your pocket
They'll stop you like a heart attack
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll take the clothes off your back
They've got their hands in your pocket
They'll stop you like a heart attack
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