I guess, God said. "Its time to let the little people have the salad days. Somebody cut the rain. Let there be lawn chairs in the shade for everyone. .
Look at the sky, the sun is rising. With another day. . Look at the sky, the sun is rising. With another day to lay at our feet. What will we do and what will we see.
I wish I had an angel. To tell me what I should do. With all these troubles. Stuck on me like superglue. Angel, my spirit's so tired. Oh, my spirit's so tired, yeah.
Oh daddy, when you gonna write that big hit?. Oh daddy, when you gonna hit it real big, real big?. . Well, now that's a tall request. For such a small little girl.
"far away," said the matriarch,. "i once heard from the tongue of a lark. Of golden days. Of bow and drum. And of men who chased.. Now they come in rags of greed,.
(belew/fetters/nyswonger). . Full color cover shot. Self magazine. Where the limos go. People start to scream. Shiny women on a yacht. These are things I ain't got.
(belew/fetters). . Money to burn, I'm on fire. Danger danger, I'm hot-wired. . I'm in the business of pleasure. A big demand for leisure. I'll have my drink at the pool.
Hold me down, I'm a wounded man. Give me all your love, give me everything. Breathe me in, like a piece of sky. On a bed of flowers, on the longest night.
"good morning, it's 3 a.m. in this great roaring city full of garbage eaters ravaging parking spots beneath my plaza window...i see cheetah in their tight skins and tired heels, all-night h.
I'm wheels, I am moving wheels. I am a 1952 studebaker coupe. I'm wheels, I am moving wheels, moving wheels. I am a 1952 starlite coupe. . En route. Les subterraneans.
how did you get it in your head, mr. bonaparte. that everything you did and said would amount to law. and all of the players and pieces on the map you drew.
I don't wanna live. Anywhere. I wanna live, I wanna live everywhere. In a rolling big house. Full of fresh air. A motor bungalow,. Round and comfortable.
When I was a boy. Simple times, simple joy. And life was not full of hate and chaos. A modern man. Lives in some kind of hurricane. I need your love to keep me calm.
Look at the signs. Look at the symptoms. Look at the slight. Calm before the storm. I feel the silence. I feel the signals. I feel the strain. Tension in my head.
Wouldn't it be great to see the African plains. Before they lay them to waste and only the bones remain?. Wouldn't it be poetry to shoot holes in the poachers we see.
Ever since I was a kid I never did fit in. While all the other fish were learning how to swim. I was dying. To be a member of the tribe. . And when I went to school my head was in a cloud.
When the sun comes up. In the nuclear sky. And the life we had. Has blown up and died. We will shed no tear,. We will skip no beat. And we will walk right down.
I lived inside a tear. Time magnified my fear. That the world around me. Was only getting more severe. . On May 1, 1990. Something changed inside me. And I, I saw the stars align.
Still by the window pane. Pain like the rain that's falling. She waits in the air. Matte kudasai. She sleeps in a chair. In her sad america. When was a night so long.
She wouldn't need to be a bird without a wing. Or be a servant to a telephone ring. She could be sleeping in the comfort of another bed. It wouldn't matter to a man with an open heart.