I am here. You are here too my dear. We're drowning in the sun. We're so near. We're getting closer and. We're sweat tears blood and come. . We are now.
(kerry kurt phillips/chuck leonard). . I've looked high and I've looked low. Talked to every old friend that she used to know. I couldn't figure out why she couldn't be found.
After I had killed my wife. And by the jury been acquitted. I resolved to change my life. And try to lead a life less wicked. I roamed around from town to town.
(jimmy alan stewart/chuck cannon). . He's in a bar, and she's in the bedroom crying. He thinks he'll drown all the hurt that he's feeling inside. A river of tears is washing away her every reason for trying.
I saw you yesterday. I couldn't let you be. I had to sift through broken glass. To find out if you missed me. But all I found was a slow fade. And a gift-wrapped box of band aids.
Well you can dance on tv with your diamonds on. Sing in tune for a world that is going for a song. Get the steps all right but the words go wrong. . And you can wake up in the morning with sweaty hands.
I wish I could go back in time. Tell you it has turned out fine. Like it has, like it has, like it has. . I sit here singing in the sun. Words not meant for anyone.
[Chorus]. . It's not the sunshine thats calling you baby. It's not the good times that are calling you baby. It's not my money thats calling you so baby come home.
[Chorus]. . She gimme that. Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh ,uh. Oh she gimme that. Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh ,uh. . [Verse 1]. . Well I want more but she wants less. She said "It's been too long and life's a mess".
Dear mum, every thing's gone wrong. And I wish, I'd listened to what you said. Times you sat down on my bed. And told me 'bout my life. . Dear mum, I've been out of touch.
Well, were sluts, you and me. Succumb to pleasure easily. Despite our last sincere intent. We rise at two and go out unkempt. . Retire at six for a little more.
Rise up from your deep sleep, baby. Wake up from your slumber. Ive got your anesthetic ready. I have got your number. . Ill do everything to help you.
Shake that fat in every direction. Move your smile across the floor. Tip your hat, the night is perfection. It's a funky music number. Who could ask for more?.
They say that the dead live forever. And round here well they probably do. If you stand by the gates outside graceland. You can watch all the dead coming through.
Some things look hard. And then they're not. Like getting on a tightrope. And falling off. . But there's never been anything. Harder than loving her. She's so demanding, so intense.
Well, the power of the bullet is fascinating. They're polishing the luga facsimiles. The little kids grow up imitating. Cowboys shoot Indians before puberty.
When it's time to pack your bags. When everything appears as the drag that it is. Get down that brown case that your grandma had. Open it up and think of your dad.
He's done it all a million times. The gags, the repartee, the little crimes. Every audience is special and that goes for you. He looks into your eyes again.
Yesterday we were the best of friends. Today we can't get back again. Time has crept in crevices. And patterns down the wall. We could paint over the papered cracks.
I'll sing you the desert, where blackmen sailed. Waterhole to water, where whitemen failed. See the face of dreamers, forgotten souls. Hear the voice of cattlemen crackle in the coals.