Baby I want the. Love you been savin'. Tell me the truth. Boy why you been waitin'. Oh, oh, oh, oh can't blame me. . We could be sweethearts. We could be never.
As I peeped into my mortal cup of mind. A molten liquid of penance splashed my eyes. . Unseen truth, a divine surgery. Reveals view, windows of faith.
I can get up. On the right side of the bed. But that won't stop the rain. From coming down on my head. I can live my life. Playing hide and seek. But when I look inside.
Christmas in Harlem. Right after autumn falls. Soakin' it all in. Then we go hit the mall. Even though we ain't ballin'. Feels like we bought it all. The mistletoe's right here.
(Verse 1). (Cyhi). The underdog (cyhi). Let me say this b4 the song start. Don't ever let nobody tell you how to draw your own art. follow your own heart.
Is it distasteful to label the tasteful?. Or was I unstable, I cradled the hateful?. . Is it unfaithful to label the faithful?. Or is it a factor to act like an actor.
You move like a slow train, on rubber wheels. Crawl from the drain way to covet me. You lie in a doorway and softly scream. I want to be obscenity. . I am the pleasure you call pain.
It's 5 o'clock and im staring through a figure on a razor blade.. It's time to stop when the clock has you tripping through the everglades.. When the memory chain seems too familiar,.
One day about four or five years ago. We is settin' at the Conoco station. Kickin' tires, and swattin' flies. And discussin' the state of the Union. .
Was the dark of the moon on the sixth of June. In a Kenworth pullin' logs. Cab-over Pete with a reefer on. And a Jimmy haulin' hogs. We is headin' for bear on I-one-oh.
'Way up in the snow. Where the scrub oaks grow. And the coneys and the picas play. Where the marmots abound. All a-diggin' in the ground. And the wind blows cold all day.
She was born in the brief mountain springtime. Blue in the late mountain snow. And she grew in the sunlight of summer. But she knew when the aspen turned gold.
(Bill Fries, Chip Davis). I's thumbin' through the want ads in the Shelby County Tribune when this classified advertisement caught my eye. It said, "Take imme-di-ate delivery on this '57 Chevrolet half-ton pickup truck. Will sell or swap for a hide-a-bed and thirty-five bucks. Call One-four-oh, ring two, and ask for Bob.".
(Steve Goodman). . Ridin' on The City of New Orleans. Illinois Central Monday morning rail. Fifteen cars and fifteen restless riders. Two conductors and a-twenty-five sacks a' mail.
(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis). . 'Way out in Colorado. In the Camp Bird Mine. Down deep in the darkness. On level nine. Where the water trickles.
VERSE. THE EVER HIGH CLUB ON LEVEE. HOLD-OUT FOR GANSTERS I'LL SAY. THE MOST VICIOUS ONES OF THEM ALL. WILL KILL YOU EVEN IF YOU PRAYED. CHORUS. CUT-THROAT GANGS OF THE CITY.
VERSE CAN'T BLOCK THIS BUT I'M TRYING. SOMETHING THAT CAN'T BE DEFINE. I DON'T FALL ASLEEP AT NIGHT. CANNOT GET MY THOUGHTS SET RIGHT. DEEP DOWN I KNOW THIS IS LOVE.
I'm not made for this, I'm not in shape. My heart don't bend like that, it just breaks. When we bring your bags down to the track. To take you back. I'm no good at this, don't know what to do.