Biografia:
Sixto Díaz Rodríguez (conhecido também como Jesús Rodríguez) nasceu no dia 10 de julho de 1942. Lançou dois álbuns no início dos anos 70 e realizou algumas turnês na Austrália. Seu trabalho pouco foi reconhecido em seu país natal - EUA -, e veio a vingar na África do Sul, fazendo muito sucesso e tendo uma enorme influência na música local.
Foram espalhados diversos boatos sobre seu suicídio. Na década de 90, um grupo de fãs do cantor conseguiu rastreá-lo e descobriu que os rumores não passavam de mentiras.
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Outras músicas:
- Cause
- I Wonder
- Lifestyles
- Silver Words
- Sugar Man
- A Los Ojos
- A Most Disgusting Song
- Cant Get Away
- Climb Up On My Music
- Copa Rota
- Crucify Your Mind
- Dead End Street
- Enganchate Conmigo
- Establishment Blue
- Establishment Blues
- Forget It
- Gommorah A Nursery Rhyme
- Halfway Up The Stairs
- Hate Street Dialogue
- I Think Of You
- Ill Slip Away
- Im Gonna Live Till I Die
- Inner City Blues
- It Started Out So Nice
- Jane S Piddy
- La Milonga Del Marinero Y El Capitan
- Like Janis
- Only Good For Conversation
- Palabras Mas Palabras Menos
- Para No Olvidar
- Rich Folks Hoax
- Rich Mans Hoax
- Sandrevan Lullaby
- Sin Documentos
- Street Boy
- Sugar Man New Arrangement
- This Is Not A Song Its An Outburst
- To Whom It May Concern
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
Intro - E, A, F#7, B7
E
I've played every kind of gig there is to play now
A
I've played faggot bars, hooker bars, motor cycle funerals
F#7 B7
In opera houses, concert halls, halfway houses.
E
Well I found that in all these places that I've played
A
all the people I've played for are the same people
F#7 B7
So if you'll listen, maybe you'll see someone you know in this song.
B7
A most disgusting song.
E
The local diddy bop pimp comes in
A
Acting limp he sits down with a grin
F#7
next to a girl that has never been chased
B7
The bartender wipes a smile off his face
E
The delegates cross the floor,
A
curtsy and promenade through the doors,
F#7 B7
and slowly the evening begins.
And there's Jimmy "Bad Luck" Butts
who's just crazy about them East Lafayette weekend sluts
Talking is the lawyer in crumpled up shirt
And everyone's drinking the detergents
that cannot remove their hurts
While the Mafia provides your drugs,
your government will provide the shrugs,
and your national guard will supply the slugs,
so they sit all satisfied.
And there's old playboy Ralph
who's always been shorter than himself,
and there's a man with his chin in his hand,
who knows more than he'll ever understand.
Yeah, every night it's the same old thing
Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny
At the "Inn-Between", again.
And there's the bearded schoolboy with the wooden eyes.
Who at every scented skirt whispers up and sighs
and there's the teacher that will kiss you in French
Who could never give love, could only fearfully clench
Yeah, people every night it's the same old thing
Getting pacified, ossified, affectionate at Mr. Flood's party, again
And there's the militant with his store-bought soul
There's someone here who's almost a virgin I've been told
And there's Linda glass-made who speaks of the past
who genuflects, salutes, signs the cross and stands at half masts
Yeah, They're all here, the Tiny Tims and the Uncle Toms,
red heads brunettes, brownettes and the dyed haired blondes,
Who talk to dogs, chase broads and have hopes of being mobbed,
who mislay their dreams and lay their claim that they were robbed
And every night it's going to be the same old thing
Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny
Lost, even, at Martha's Vineyard, again
Notes: For “Live Fact” version, play in the key of D. (D, G, E7, A7)
E
I've played every kind of gig there is to play now
A
I've played faggot bars, hooker bars, motor cycle funerals
F#7 B7
In opera houses, concert halls, halfway houses.
E
Well I found that in all these places that I've played
A
all the people I've played for are the same people
F#7 B7
So if you'll listen, maybe you'll see someone you know in this song.
B7
A most disgusting song.
E
The local diddy bop pimp comes in
A
Acting limp he sits down with a grin
F#7
next to a girl that has never been chased
B7
The bartender wipes a smile off his face
E
The delegates cross the floor,
A
curtsy and promenade through the doors,
F#7 B7
and slowly the evening begins.
And there's Jimmy "Bad Luck" Butts
who's just crazy about them East Lafayette weekend sluts
Talking is the lawyer in crumpled up shirt
And everyone's drinking the detergents
that cannot remove their hurts
While the Mafia provides your drugs,
your government will provide the shrugs,
and your national guard will supply the slugs,
so they sit all satisfied.
And there's old playboy Ralph
who's always been shorter than himself,
and there's a man with his chin in his hand,
who knows more than he'll ever understand.
Yeah, every night it's the same old thing
Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny
At the "Inn-Between", again.
And there's the bearded schoolboy with the wooden eyes.
Who at every scented skirt whispers up and sighs
and there's the teacher that will kiss you in French
Who could never give love, could only fearfully clench
Yeah, people every night it's the same old thing
Getting pacified, ossified, affectionate at Mr. Flood's party, again
And there's the militant with his store-bought soul
There's someone here who's almost a virgin I've been told
And there's Linda glass-made who speaks of the past
who genuflects, salutes, signs the cross and stands at half masts
Yeah, They're all here, the Tiny Tims and the Uncle Toms,
red heads brunettes, brownettes and the dyed haired blondes,
Who talk to dogs, chase broads and have hopes of being mobbed,
who mislay their dreams and lay their claim that they were robbed
And every night it's going to be the same old thing
Getting high, getting drunk, getting horny
Lost, even, at Martha's Vineyard, again
Notes: For “Live Fact” version, play in the key of D. (D, G, E7, A7)
Roky Erickson
Roland Faunte
Rolf Harris
Rolf Løvl (...)
Rolf Zuckowski