Jason Finn said: "Purple Haze" was Bruce Fairweather's Love Battery demos of. 1988-1989.. . (Hendirx/Redding/Mitchell). Dave: Ready?. Chris: Yeah man.
Little puffy cloud with a tongue. Floatin' over a cheese puff rug a lug. If I had a choice between those two you know. I'd obviously choose the one with the puffy little shoes.
(Ow! - check sound -- ahaha-haha! - one, two, three, four). My little lumberjack. You know I want you back [decisions, decisions...]. In fact I never want you to lea-eee-ee-ve.
Wanna push it, wanna rip it, wanna kill it. . Girls, girls, girls, girls are so polite. They don't crush everything that they see. You can take 'em to a funky, funky forest.
Movin' to the country,. Gonna eat a lot of peaches. Movin' to the country,. Gonna eat me a lot of peaches. Movin' to the country,. Gonna eat a lot of peaches.
Little puffy cloud with a tongue. Floatin' over a cheese puff rug a lug. If I had a choice between those two. You know I'd obviously choose the one with the puffy little shoes.
Days are fading into history. Moving forward, looking back. Unsure if I'm finding anything. Worth the time it takes to feel it. . Revenge, hate or solitude.
Movin' to the country gonna eat a lot of peaches. I'm movin' to the country I'm gonna eat me a lot of peaches. I'm movin' to the country I'm gonna eat a lot of peaches.
Take me right now. Up your arm, right. Next to your ear. So I can whisper. . So what if I not forgive you. So what if you're not the one. I have to rise above you.
Lady dancing on a Tulip. Pirouetting in the sunset. Let me be your next cigarette.. Church bells, played by a penguin. Bearded priest who walks like chaplin,.
Black roses laced with silver. By a broken moon.. Ten million stars. And the whispered harmonies of leaves.. We werer these.. Beside a dried up fountain.
I tell you hes a private man. In a public circumstance. Hes eying off an old door frame. Looking for a drastic change. . Its such a shame this has to end.
By now you know that I never arrived. I was too tired to move. I was gonna invent an elaborate excuse. But I'm tired of them too. . Little pockets of air in the atmosphere.
When you are set to throw in your hand. When you are far from home. When what you believe is buried in your hands. When you feel outgrown. . I'll be the one to pick you up again.
Caged. You hold so tight, until your knuckles show. Escape. As far away as you could ever know. . You sink them all down. And watch them float up. Until the wheel has spun around.
I found it difficult. To be a storytelling failure. For all those years. Living was a challenge. That caught me so off-balance. And passed me by. . Repeatedly, I stared my future in the face.
Dude What Happened Last night...?. . Lightening Strikes Me Down. I'm On my knees. I can't write it out. . But I'll show you what I mean. and the words they will drip down your cheeks.
Vi fant ham liggenede med hodet p pulten min assistent politifullmektig Roger Hansen og. jeg.. Ikke rr noen ting sa jeg og siktet til vpenet avdde holdt i sin venstre hnd..
The bloodless toil, the endless foil. You'll never see your home again. Every time you dial that phone. It rings like it's got no end. . Life, what precious moments.