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Use A− / A+ para ajustar a leituraCover of the Rolling Stone
Coughing, Blues?: "Gol, Bret--don't touch me there!"Bret: I'm gonna tell you who we are.Well we're big rock singerswe got golden fingersAnd we're loved everywhere we go(That sounds like us)We sing about beautyand we sing about truthAt ten million dollars a show(Yeah, right!)We take all kinda pillsThat give us all kinda thrillsBut the thrill we've never knownIs the thrill that it gets yawhen you get your pictureOn the cover of the Rolling StoneChorus:Rolling StoneI'm gonna see my picture on the coverStoneGonna buy five copies for my motherStoneGonna see my smiling faceOn the cover of the Rolling StoneI got a freaky old lady named Cocaine KatieWho embroiders on my jeansI got my poor old gray-haired DaddyDriving my limousine.Now it's all designed to blow our minds,But our minds won't really be blownLike the blow that'll getchaWhen you get your pictureOn the cover of the Rolling StoneChorusSpoken: Hey, I know how!!!SoloSpoken: Beautiful!We gotta lot of little teen-agedblue-eyed groupiesWho do anything we sayWe got a genuine Indian GuruHe's teaching us a better wayWe got all the friends that money can buy,So we never have to be aloneAnd we keep gettin' richer,But we can't get our pictureOn the cover of the Rolling StoneChorusTalking:I don't know why we ain't on the cover, baby!Ah we're beautiful fellas!I ain't kiddin' you man, we'd make a beautiful coverI mean, I can see it right now--we be up front,Oh, we be smilin'....Beautiful!
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