Hold tight, things are growin' cold inside ya' never known. Cut to the rawhide right to the metal bone. Strap a live across your knees to the back where your jawbone freezes.
I wanna make my home. Where the buffalo roam. In that great panorama. . My baby brother and me. In the land of the free. Americana. . In my schoolboy world.
Dear sir or madam, I don't normally write to the press. But the neighborhood where I grew up is really quite depressed. Society is crumbling but the media's obsessed with boobs, bums.
New England to Hollywood. Seems so far away. Like all roads lead us to California. . It's a long long way to paradise, isn't it?. In the never ending search for all perfection.
Looking for the working man's café. In the shopping center of the town. Looking for somewhere to fit in. In among the retail outlets. . Bought a pair of new designer pants.
You're asking me, "what's it leading to?. Will we live a long life, will it treat us fair?". No point asking me because I haven't got a clue. . You're asking me, "will it be alright?".
You're asking me, "what's it leading to?. Will we live a long life, will it treat us fair?". No point asking me because I haven't got a clue. . You're asking me, "will it be alright?".
You better top off your suntan. Otherwise your skin's gonna to turn to leather. We'll make a movie in Vietnam. Tax break said we're gonna shoot on location.
Voices in the subway. Looking for the overnight. Echo in the darkness. Lonely cries within a sound. . A voice that has no face. Is lost in time and inner space.
Looking for the working man's café. In the shopping center of the town. Looking for somewhere to fit in. In among the retail outlets. . Bought a pair of new designer pants.
Tell me you don't sleep at night, I know. Because of how things have been. And tell me how you just don't trust your life to someone. Don't trust that love can win.
I'm so tired. Tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for you. I'm so tired. . Tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for you. I was a lonely soul. I had nobody till I met you.
The natives are getting restless in the tropical heat. Work in scarce and children play while the dogs fight in the street. And in the hotels all the tourists dine on local fare.
When the heat stops you sleeping at night. And the dead leaves rustle around. And the calmness keeps you awake. And you pace around the room. . That's the zombie in you manifesting itself.
Every time I hear that lonesome train. Roll down the track. Going away to unknown destinations. . I believe there's someone out there. Making the great escape, just moving on.
You danced and partied at the Mardi Gras. Threw back all the beads at the parade. Fake worlds and logos in the shopping mall. Where you came from. Everything seemed the same the whole world now.
I'll tell you a story to pass on to the end,. as told to me so long ago by my good friend. As we hollowed round the log fire, we laughed the whole night long,.
Are you going on Thanksgiving Day. To those family celebrations?. Passing on knowledge down through the years. At the gathering of generations. . Every year it's the same routine.
See my friends,. See my friends,. Layin' 'cross the river,. See my friends,. See my friends,. Layin' 'cross the river,. She is gone,. She is gone and now there's no one left.
Now I don't mind if fifty thousand yobos pick me up. Outside a football ground on a Saturday afternoon. I'll still come out fighting, do you know why?.