Texty písní Electric Light Orchestra

Electric Light Orchestra

Fields Of People

Wildflowers grow everywhere

Vibrations flow, things will have to change

(Good evening, madam. It's a recording. Yes.)

Strange new ideas fill the air

Some people leave, others grieve

Some were there but things will change

Old concepts go, new ones grow

All at once the world begins to love again

(..... Hello Uncle Bill)

And the wildflowers grow out of fields

Fields of people

There's no such thing as a weed

Seeds of hatred

Plant them and soon they will breed

(Going to the pub, are you? Evening madam.)

Wildflowers grow everywhere

Vibrations flow, things will have to change

(Good evening, madam. It's a recording. Yes.)

Strange new ideas fill the air

Some people leave, others grieve

Some were bare but things will change

Old concepts go, new ones grow

All at once the world begins to love again

(..... Hello Uncle Bill)

And the wildflowers grow out of fields

Love of people

There's no such thing as a weed

Seeds of hatred

Plant them and soon they will breed

Fields of people

There's no such thing as a weed

Seeds of hatred

Plant them and soon they will feed

Wildflowers grow everywhere

Vibrations flow, things will have to change

(Good evening, madam. It's a recording. Yes.)

Strange new ideas fill the air

Some people leave, others grieve

Some were there, but things will change

Old concepts go, new ones grow

All at once the world begins to love again

(..... Hello Uncle Bill)

And the wildflowers grow out of fields

(There's a bloke out here looking for the band)

There's no such thing as a weed

Seeds of hatred

Plant them and soon they will breed

There's no such thing as a weed

Seeds of hatred

Plant them and soon they will breed

There's no such thing as a weed

Seeds of hatred

Plant them and soon they will breed

(Here we are now in Great Portland Street. Ah, good evening sir, I

wonder would you like to come over here and say a few words in the

microphone. Oh. It catches one a bit off balance suddenly to be

interrupted in the street. I got one. Hello, I don't wanna taxi. What I

want is this. You're a taxi driver, and we want a taxi driver's opinion

on pop music. I think it's very good mate. Just cause I gettin' a bit

anciant don't mean to say I don't enjoy it. Good. Toot your organ and

we'll be away.)

(Hold it. One more time, it's a bit ragged. Try one more. Here we go.)