You can live your life in a crowded city. You can walk along a crowded street. But the city really ain't no bigger than the friendly people. Friendly people that you meet.
Hard to breath, the airs been stoler. Without my suit, blues been swollen. It's got as hades. And it ain't ever noon. 'Cause hanging round with you is like living on the moon.
She won't drive a Cadillac unless it's new. She says gold is just a place to put my jewel. I work double shifts for one more pair of shoes. This livin' easy's getting hard to do.
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Tell me how high, cotton has to grow. Tell me how high, cotton has to grow. 'Fore you get a man with a rusty blade and a hoe. . Tell me who's that on, when i can get no ride.
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Going back in the morning time. To see if my love has changed her mind, yeah.. Going back in the morning time. To see if my love has changed her mind, yeah..
As I drove down the road to look for Eden. Saw two young girls but left them standing there. They were too late to get home on the underground. And probably too drunk, too drunk to care.
Took a sad song of one sweet evening. I smiled and quickly turned away.. It's not easy singing sad songs. But still the easiest way I have to say.. So when you look into the sun.
In the shuffling madness. Of the locomotive breath. Runs the all-time loser. Headlong to his death. Oh, he feels the pistons screaming. Steam breaking on his brow.
The tiny ant leaves his tiny ant drops in the sand,. And makes his home inside a rusty watering can,. Occasionally going out to look for bread and jam..
The bomb's in the china. The fat's in the fire.. There's no turkey left on the table.. The commuter's return on the six o'clock flyer. brings no bale of hay for the stable..
In the shuffling madness. Of the locomotive breath. Runs the all time loser. Headlong to his death. Oh, he feels the pistons screaming. Steam breaking on his brow.
Happy and I'm smilin', walk a mile to drink your water. You know I'd love to love you and above you there's no other. We'll go walking out while others shout of war's disaster.
Well, I don't care to eat out in smart restaurants.. I'd rather do a Vindaloo: take away is what I want.. I was down at the old Bengal, having telephoned a treat.
Last light's out. They're all abed. And something's in my room. Creeping down towards me on the wall. . Daddy said it's just some flickering. headlight through the gloom.
When you're falling awake. And you take stock of the new day. And you hear your voice croak. As you choke on what you need to say. Well, don't you fret, don't you fear.