Tekst:
Rolling Stones Exile On Main Street

music, million dollar sad. Got no tactics, got no time on hand. Left shoe shuffle, right shoe muffle, Sinking in the sand. Fade out freedom, steaming heat on

President, Mister Immigration Man, Let me in, sweetie, to your fair land. I'm Tampa bound and Memphis too, Short Fat Fanny is on the loose. Dig that sound on

: I wanna tell you 'bout a dance That's goin' around, Everybody's doin' it From the grownups down. Don't move your head, Don't move your hands,

: Well I never kept a dollar past sunset, It always burned a hole in my pants. Never made a school mama happy, Never blew a second chance, oh no

: That's all right, that's all right, that's all right. Sometimes you feel like trouble, sometimes you feel down. Let this music relax you mind, let

you to come on, come on down Sweet Virginia, I want you come on, honey child, I beg of you. I want you come on, come on down, you got it in you. Got

: Yeah, heard the diesel drumming all down the line. Oh, heard the wires a humming all down the line. Yeah, hear the women sighing all down the line

woman's cussing, you can hear her scream, You feel like murder in the first degree. Ain't nobody slowing down no way, Ev'rybody's stepping on their

beating all their wings in time, With smiles on their faces and a gleam right in their eyes. Whoa, thought I heard on sigh for you, Come on up, come on up, now, come on