Texty písní Kathleen Edwards

Kathleen Edwards

I Make The Dough, You Get The Glory

Blazing a trail to the southern cities

From the streets of our hometown

Basement bars we played from the heart

In the company of our friends

If I write down these memories

That I have saved away

Photographs of the years that passed

Inside my little brain

You're cool and cred like Fogerty

I'm Elvis Presley in the 70's

You're Chateauneuf, I'm Yellow Label

You're the buffet I'm just the table

I'm a Ford Tempo you're a Maserati

You're the Great One, I'm Marty mcsorley

You're the Concorde, I'm economy

I make the dough but you get the glory

Big fish small pond and some cover songs

We sang along the way

We used to midnight run to the Vesta Lunch

Cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes

Once I got drunk with Jeff

I told him I was in love with you

But I love you like a brother

So at least half of it was true

You're cool and cred like Fogerty

I'm Elvis Presley in the seventies

You're Chateauneuf, I'm Yellow Label

You're the buffet I'm just the table

I'm a Dodge Sparkle, you're a Lamborghini

You're the Great One, I'm Marty mcsorley

You're the Concorde, I'm economy

I make the dough, but you get the glory

If I write down these memories

That I have saved away

Photographs of the years that passed

Inside my little brain

I'm sure it's been said in the finer print

You make me look legitimate

Heavy rotation on the CBC

Whatever in hell that really means

You're cool and cred like Fogerty

I'm Elvis Presley in the 70's

You're the Concorde I'm economy

I make the dough, but you get the glory