I hear you been coming around. I feel you just by the sound. I want you just like a pill. I feed you, need to just for the thrill. . Come undo me. Like the way you used to do.
Look, no strings--just paper, glue, and card. Hark, the angels sing 'Paste the Lord'. That was the Armley tabernacle choir. Next we'll be hearing the true story of an American housewife who claims to have taken mid-air photographs of Jesus Christ in the skies of Indiana..
Oh, I don't know if I'm ready for this. Am I just wasting time. Cause I can't get. Past the pictures in my mind. . I never knew till I fell into you. And Ive always dreamed.
Of course it's you...it's 2AM. You feel like dancin' to my R.E.M.. Mix your signals do you feel like sharin'. or do you just wanna know what I'm wearin'?.
Lie lie lie lie, lie lie lie, lie lie lie. Lie lie lie lie, lie lie lie, lie lie lie. . I failed the audition, for celebrity squares. Your life is a dream, then you wake up.
There's always been a pattern of struggle and defeat. Never that cycle incomplete. Never enough to tip the scales. Too many people rotting in jails. Or bloodied on the battlefields.
A perfect frame, a picture faded. A shot in the dark, took a chance. And kept on waiting for you. . Another day gone and wasted. The fear of being alone.
And this is Steve Wright, we hope that those that lost relatives in this terrible disaster may be able to have a better life as a result of this great record.
What are you doing to yourself again?. Denying what you could have been. . Well, it's not alright with me. This is not how you're supposed to be. Cause I know just where you are.
The millionaires are closing ranks. Tax-dodging in the race to the bank. Listen for the slamming of the stable doors. After the horse has bolted. Trapped fingers, and someone's to blame.
Down, you always know where to go. To get into trouble but it's always. A double edged sword with you and me. . But you never seem to care. Cause your satisfaction comes from watching.
It's such an easy step. From lets forget to lest we forget. We haven't learned this yet. From Cold Harbor lane to Oklahoma and back again. The problems stay the same.
When I left, it was starting to rain. She was still fast asleep. A dream and a song away. I got on the plane to L.A.. . I know it's heartbreaking. The time that I'm taking.
At farnley park cricket ground there's a sycamore tree. And it stands thirty feet inside the boundary. I think that someone slapped a preservation order on the tree.
It doesn't matter how rich or poor we are. Doesn't matter what sex or species we are. Doesn't matter with which nation we associate. Doesn't matter what politics we love or hate.
Just when you figured it out someone lets you down. Who'll make all the wrong decisions when the judge is up for trial?. No-one has the cure for all our daily hurts.
One last taxi ride before we die. 'This is destiny, she cried. Ride so carelessly around the avenues. Watch the lights, the fairy lights. And all at once a thousand conversations.
I accept, I accept, I accept. I'll be gonna. I accept, I accept, I accept, I, I accept. . We're the ladies for compassionate lynching. We fight for all the things we believe.
Come out of our corners. Keep moving, keep changing, start working together. We can change this world by changing ourselves. Make our hands one hand. Resist and realize.
By building up the means for war, we thus preserve the peace. Such bullshit will prepare us for invasion from the east. And meanwhile, they're carving up the land.