Big Apple के बोल

Lonely house blues, donating my shoes Old lady downstairs, keeps dying her hair When done cooking food, we'll move to my room Can tell I don't care, there's dust in the air Poor you, let the good times through Overdue, you're such a nice view Don't get misconstrued, making pee and poo Like musical chairs and foreign affairs Please slip me quaaludes, make me subdued Can tell I don't care, there's shit on the stairs Poor me, I'm falling down To the ground level