Nouvelle Vague: All My Colors / Guns of Brixton

All My Colors

Flying and you know I'm not coming down
You're trying but you know you must soon go down
All my colours turn to clouds
All my colours turn to clouds

Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo

Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo

What d'you say when your heart's in pieces?
How d'you play those cards in sequence?
That box you gave me burned nicely
That box you gave me burned nicely

Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo

Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo
Zimbo, zimbo, zimbo, zimbo

Flying down, flying down
All my colours turn to clouds
All my colours turn to clouds

Hey, I'm flowing, hey, I'm flowing
All my colours turn to clouds
All my colours turn to clouds
All my colours turn to clouds

All my colours turn to clouds
All my colours turn to clouds

Flying and you know I'm not coming down
You're trying but you know you must soon go down
All my colours turn to clouds

Guns of Brixton
(feat. Camille)
(The Clash)

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

When the law break in
How you gonna go?
Shot down on the pavement
Or waiting on death row

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton

The money feels good
And your life you like it well
But surely your time will come
As in heaven, as in hell

You see, he feels like Ivan
Born under the Brixton sun
His game is called survivin'
At the end of the harder they come

You know it means no mercy
They caught him with a gun
No need for the Black Maria
Goodbye to the Brixton sun

You can crush us
You can bruise us
Yes, even shoot us
But oh-the guns of Brixton

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

You can crush us
You can bruise us
Yeah, even shoot us
But oh-the guns of Brixton

Shot down on the pavement
Waiting in death row
His game is called survivin'
As in heaven as in hell

You can crush us
You can bruise us
But you'll have to answer to
Oh, the guns of Brixton