Tekstovi: Paul Williams. Bugsy Malone. Fat Sam's Grand Slam.
:
Any body who is anybody
Will soon walk through that door
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Always able to find you a table
There's room for just one more
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Once you get here, feel the good cheer
Like they always say in the poem
Fat Sam's ain't humble
But it's your home sweet home
Plans are made here, games are played here
I could write me a book
Each night astounds you
Rumours are abuzzing
Stories by the dozen
Look around you, cousin
At the news were making here
Anybody who is anybody
Will soon walk through that door
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Da da da da da da
Da da da da da da
Da da da da da da
Hoc ya, Hoo ya, Hoo da da da da
See the politicians
Sittin' by the kitchen
Said he caught his fingers
In the well he was wishin'
Once you get here, feel the good cheer
Like they always say in the poem
Fat Sam's ain't humble
But it's your home sweet home
Plans are made here, games are played here
I could write me a book
Each night astounds you
Rumours are abuzzing
Stories by the dozen
Look around you, cousin
At the news were making here
Anybody who is anybody
Will soon walk through that door
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Any body who is anybody
Will soon walk through that door
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Always able to find you a table
There's room for just one more
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Once you get here, feel the good cheer
Like they always say in the poem
Fat Sam's ain't humble
But it's your home sweet home
Plans are made here, games are played here
I could write me a book
Each night astounds you
Rumours are abuzzing
Stories by the dozen
Look around you, cousin
At the news were making here
Anybody who is anybody
Will soon walk through that door
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Da da da da da da
Da da da da da da
Da da da da da da
Hoc ya, Hoo ya, Hoo da da da da
See the politicians
Sittin' by the kitchen
Said he caught his fingers
In the well he was wishin'
Once you get here, feel the good cheer
Like they always say in the poem
Fat Sam's ain't humble
But it's your home sweet home
Plans are made here, games are played here
I could write me a book
Each night astounds you
Rumours are abuzzing
Stories by the dozen
Look around you, cousin
At the news were making here
Anybody who is anybody
Will soon walk through that door
At Fat Sam's Grand Slam Speakeasy
Williams, Paul
Bugsy Malone
Williams, Paul
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