Åñëè Âàøåé ëþáèìîé ïåñíè èëè àëüáîìà The Auteurs íåò â ñïèñêå ïåñåí, òî Âû ìîæåòå äîáàâèòü èõ â íàøó êîëëåêöèþ ñ ïîìîùüþ ýòîé ôîðìû. Äîáàâèòü âèäåî-êëèïû ê ïåñíÿì Âû ìîæåòå íà ñîîòâåòñòâóþùèõ ñòðàíèöàõ. Òàê æå Âû ìîæåòå äîáàâèòü áèîãðàôèþ è äèñêîãðàôèþ ñ ïîìîùüþ ýòîé ññûëêè.
Åñëè Âû õîòèòå äîáàâèòü íîâîãî èñïîëíèòåëÿ è åãî ïåñíè, âîñïîëüçóéòåñü ýòîé ôîðìîé.
Your star is descending
Round here blindly
Tell your dancing daughter
That there抯 no room
on the wing
We can bitch
but it ain磘 a tinsel town
Hey! Starchild
Cant dance
Left out on a useless limb
This party will start
To drag you down
Slap your face
And pull your hair
Bailed out, bailed out
Bailed out, this skin is head
Bailed out, bailed out
Bailed out, this thing is dead
I was in traction
started off smiling
Couldn抰 help laughing
I was astounded when
They caught you unware
And some missionary said
That this week
weave got to shoot
All the dancing girls
And then replace them
With satellites instead
Bailed out, bailed out
Bailed out, this skin is head
Bailed out, bailed out
Bailed out, this thing is dead
Like to see something change
Around here, around there