It's cold here in the city. It always seems that way. And I've been thinking about you. Almost every day. Thinking about the good times. Thinking about the rain.
Jessie went away last summer, a couple of months ago. After all our time together, it was hard to see her go. She called me right up when she arrived.
There are children raised in sorrow. on a scorched and barren plain. there are children raised beneath the golden sun. There are children of the water,.
I remember romance. Bubblebaths at night. Breakfast in the afternoon. Love by candlelight. Love by candlelight. . I remember romance. And lying in her arms.
I guess he'd rather be in Colorado. He'd rather spend his time out where the sky looks like a pearl after a rain. Once again I see him walkin Once again I hear him talking to the stars he makes.
I would always wait. For the perfect time. But now the time. Has come and gone. I hold on to the memories. As though we're still together. Longing for the strength to carry on.
(Kevin Denney/Don Sampson). . Check engine light came on in my pick up truck. So I took a piece of black tape and I covered it up. I knew there was a problem underneath the hood.
THERE'S A MONTH OF SUNDAY PAPERS. IN THE WEEDS THAT ARE TAKING OVER. THAT OL' GRAVEL DRIVEWAY. AND A QUART OF MILK HALF EMPTY. TWO WEEKS PAST THE EXPIRATION.
Hey!. . I know where you live, yea. And I wanna live there too. I drive buy almost everyday, its not even really on my way. When am I gonna get to see you?.
Chi l'avrebbe detto che anche alla mia età ci fosse un po' da ridere. Non l'avrei mai detto che a metà di un libro si potesse chiudere. Oggi cosa resta se l'amore non si fa più sulle nuvole?.
I'm standing on the bridge. I'm waiting in the dark. I thought that you'd be here by now. . There's nothing but the rain. No footsteps on the ground. I'm listening, but there's no sound.
(By Sandy Denny. U.F.O. Music, Inc. (C) 1972). . Oh it's like a storm at sea,. And everything is lost. And, the fretful sailors. Calling out their woes,.
(By Sandy Denny. U.F.O. Music, Inc. (C) 1972). . My name is Jan the gypsy. I travel the land.. There are no chains about me. I am me own man.. I can tell a fair old story which I'm sure ain't no surprise.
Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the American Dream. About me, about you, the way our American hearts beat. Down in the bottom of our chests, about the special feeling.
I don't believe in anything. Anything that I hear. 'Cause they got ways of fixing things. Make notes disappear. So if you're havin' trouble stayin' in pitch.
Now that we have found a love so true. And we know that there can be no doubt. We won't let anything come between us. Oh no. . And you know that I believe in you.
This cannot be real. Lookin' out into the cold. This window holds a view. Of you and I and growing old. . I would call you now. If I had strength on telephones.
I think it's fair. To say that I knew you best. Way back when. . The place you live. The things you'll do. The choice you have. That I could never understand.
Scende la notte è giunto il momento di riposare. Son così stanca, ma non mi riesce di dormire. Undici e ventitré e ascolto una canzone,. Ma la mente è altrove e non mi accorgo di sentire.
We have fallen to the deepest cracks in the world. We're only seconds away from the human waste. We came as romans but we turned out as soldiers. We are watching the horizon as it is burning away.