Main street exile

Main street exile



No men allowed

No cash available

No excuses accepted

Only regrets






On the streets losers
On the floor my empty pockets
On the skys red carpets on fire
Only ashes


But I keep trying
But I was not informed
But my house make me some pennies
Only few cents


Where are the wall street bricks?

Where are my pals on accounts?
Where my pants can be found?
Only on distant streets


Only way as crossing over talks
Only at few people watching the time right screaming
Only where no one knows economics tricks
Only at the main street where belongs exiled human dreams
- - - - -
Tumbling Dice
(LP Exile on Main Street, 1972)

Written By Jagger/Richards

People think I'm crazy, they're always tryin' to waste me
make me burn the candle right down,
but baby, baby, I don't need no jewels in my crown.
'Cause all you wimen is low down gamblers,
cheatin' like I don't know how,
but baby, baby, there's fever in the funk house now.
This low down bitchin' got my poor feet a itchin',
don't you know that duece's stay wild.

Baby, I can't stay, you got to roll me
and call me the tumblin' dice.

Always in a hurry, you never stop to worry,
don't you see the time flashin' by.

Honey, got no money,
I'm all sixes and sevens and nines.
Say now, baby, I'm a rank outsider,
you can be my partner in crime.

But baby, I can't stay,
you got to roll me and call me the tumblin',
roll me and call me the tumblin' dice.

Oh, my, my, my, I'm the lone crap shooter,
playin' the field ev'ry night.

Baby, can't stay,
you got to roll me and call me the tumblin' ,
roll me and call me the tumblin' dice.
Got to roll me. Got to roll me.