Текст песни: Rodney Atkins. Monkey In The Middle.
I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
Then it's off to work like a runaway train
Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
It don't take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
Back and forth in a game of pickle
I ain't nothing but the monkey in the middle
Walking that sideshow tight rope, making ends meet
That organ grinder be in a bind without me
In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
But every time that music plays, I know what to do
Every Friday night at the honky tonk
Me and my baby make that dive jump
When our buckles bump, I tell you what
That girl is packing some powerful stuff, powerful stuff
And when we get home she plays me like a fiddle
Makin' sweet music with the monkey in the middle
Walking that sideshow tightrope, making ends meet
That organ grinder be in a bind without me
In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
But every time that music plays, sugar, I know what to do
And then I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
Then it's off to work like a runaway train
Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
It don't take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
Back and forth in a game of pickle
I ain't nothing but the monkey in the middle
Then it's off to work like a runaway train
Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
It don't take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
Back and forth in a game of pickle
I ain't nothing but the monkey in the middle
Walking that sideshow tight rope, making ends meet
That organ grinder be in a bind without me
In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
But every time that music plays, I know what to do
Every Friday night at the honky tonk
Me and my baby make that dive jump
When our buckles bump, I tell you what
That girl is packing some powerful stuff, powerful stuff
And when we get home she plays me like a fiddle
Makin' sweet music with the monkey in the middle
Walking that sideshow tightrope, making ends meet
That organ grinder be in a bind without me
In that circus they work us like a bunch of borrowed mules
But every time that music plays, sugar, I know what to do
And then I get up like a rocket in a hurricane
Then it's off to work like a runaway train
Drivin' them nails, draggin' my tail
It don't take much to follow my trail, follow my trail
Back and forth in a game of pickle
I ain't nothing but the monkey in the middle
Atkins, Rodney
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