كلمات Top-Gun

Woah! Yeah! Woah! Yeah! Soaring down in a sweet plane Still it won't park My shift in full throttle At twelve hundred hours My wrists don't feel a thing Too tired to give in Running fast so they can't win Running with the wind Top-Gun! Number one! Top-Gun! Number one! Number one! Number one! Hangar ships fill the bay In our backyard We'll meet each other At fifteen hundred hours Let's build a harbor from clay So we can start To eject your big brother At eighteen hundred hours My wrists don't feel a thing Too tired to give in Running fast so they can't win Running with the wind Stealth flier goes speed of sound Air carrier stays on the ground Silver wings travel across the land That's why he's called Top-Gun, the man! Yeah! Top-Gun, the man! Yeah! Top-Gun, the man! Yeah! Yeah! Top-Gun, the man! Yeah! Yeah! Top-Gun, the man!