《Michaelangelo》歌词

[00:00:00] Michaelangelo - Slapp Happy

[00:00:04] Lying back to paint upon the ceiling

[00:00:08] No he never uses black just the colours of his feelings

[00:00:11] He delineates saints on a sepia ground

[00:00:15] His tamper like his paints is albumen bound

[00:00:19] Work and toil well he ain't no dilettante

[00:00:23] He conceives in oil and vatican chianti

[00:00:42] The rumour's out his hobby is dissection

[00:00:45] And there ain't no doubt he knows the body to perfection

[00:00:57] Fourteen lines that's what makes a sonnet

[00:01:00] It even rhymes

[00:01:02] Buonarroti's working on it

[00:01:12] Through the streets stricken by the urchins

[00:01:16] Wrapped in sheets round the town he's lurching

[00:01:19] Lurching to the church heavy with a vision

[00:01:23] Continuing his search though they come with their derision

[00:01:27] All his works you just gotta see 'em

[00:01:31] Ask the clerks at your neighborhood museum

[00:01:50] Pope's on the phone calling Buonarroti

[00:01:53] But he's not home he's gone a little potty

[00:02:05] He's off again waving paints and brushes

[00:02:08] Round the bend to wind up in the rushes