Gotta black breast Chinese eyes Got an English brain that gonna make me wise Got a long story that I wanna tell To a rhythm that I know so well Really
Nobody gonna take my car I'm gonna race it to the ground Nobody gonna beat my car It's gonna break the speed of sound Ooh it's a killing machine It's
Can you remember, remember my name? As I flow through your life A thousand oceans I have flown And cold spirits of ice All my life I am the echo of your
You're so hot, you're so cool I can see that you're nobody's fool Now tell me, am I coming through? It's too late, I can't wait Believe it's gonna be
I have often told you stories About the way I lived the life of a drifter Waiting for the day When I'd take your hand and sing songs Then maybe you would
Sweet child in time, you'll see the line The line that's drawn between, good and the bad See the blind man, he's shooting at the world The bullets flying
The world around us hangs in doubt You face a crime that we'll hear about To pay the cost would never be the same Eternal lovers we're not to blame There
I see reflections in the water Autumn colors, summer's daughter And as the year is growing older I see winter on my shoulder I stand in the haze Watching
There's a full time reservation Made in a bar at the railway station. And there's a story, a kind of fable, On a card at the corner table. On it is a
Chasing shadows, over my walls With myself hardly sleeping Dwarfs and giants, twenty feet tall Fill the room with their creeping Sounds of breathing
When the sun goes to bed That's the time you raise your head That's your lot in life Lalena Can't blame you Lalena Arty Tart la, de, da Can your part
Oh, the beggar on his cornerstone Catches pity in his wrinkled hand But the lover whose bird has flown Catches nothing only grains of sand All the children
Painter Come colour up my life Oh painter Come colour up my life Take away the misery Take away the strife Writer Make me up a play Writer Make the meaning
Painter, come color up my life Ohh, painter, come color up my life Take away the misery Take away the strife Writer, make me up a play Ohh, writer, make
April is a cruel time Even though the sun may shine And world looks in the shade As it slowly comes away Still falls the April rain And the valley's
There's a black hill we had to climb Everything I need but nothing is mine Satan's world, how 'bout a kill Why didn't Rosemary ever take the pill? Laying
You stare into the room, nothing there but space No sign of any message gone without a trace But I don't want your pity, if that's what you think I'll
Some say the state of Texas Could accommodate the entire human population Five point six billion versions of the truth Under one roof, some revelation