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Fields Of People



Electric Light Orchestra - Fields Of People - Текст песни

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

		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 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

(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 tazi driver, and we wanna 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.)
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