I may not seem your ideal. When you look into my eyes. I don't smoke, don't tell jokes. I'm not the custom made size. . But baby let me take you. Out on the highway for awhile.
Your accountant called this morning. There was springtime in his heart. He couldn't wait to tell me. How he'd pulled our lives apart. And the letter from your lawyer.
Les grands orages, de venir a moi. J'ai la dans mes poings, la force de vivre. Et le filet du temps, n'est que l'ombre qui passe. Et voila le present que je regarde en face.
Do you pray to someone new. When you're locked up in the rock?. Is the golden age dead and gone. Are the hands stuck on the clock?. . Can you talk to Buddy's bones.
They're barring the doors at the back of the hall. It's cold in the winter, some freeze in the fall. The banquet's the supper that's set for the swine.
Gray London mornin'. Wet London streets. Rain on the window. Wind in the trees. It's my time to write. It's your time to call. There's somethin' about distance.
Music by ? ?. Produced by chris thomas. Recorded 1969 at emi studios, abbey road. Never released (the bread and beer band). . [instrumental]. . Related.
When the shrill winds are screaming and the evening is still. Lady Samantha glides over the hill. In a long satin dress that she wears every day. Her home is the hillside, her bed is the grave.
Lady What's Tomorrow. . released on Empty Sky 1969. . look up little brother. can you see the clover. no, not over there. a little bit left and over there.
My Lady D'Arbanville. Why do you sleep so still. I'll wake you tomorrow. And you will be my pill, yes you will be my pill. . My Lady D'Arbanville. Why does it grieve me so.
Well she looked a peach in the dress she made. When she was still her mama's little girl. And when she walked down the aisle everybody smiled. At her innocence and curls.
It's just like Noah's ark. There's two of every kind. Pretty girls and boys in drag. Walking a fine thin line. Shaking hands and bussing cheeks. Licking their lips like they could eat.
I looked up from my glass into the sky. There's no one in my comic book to buy. Calendar swung on the wall held by a rusty nail. Down came the strange rain and washed my thoughts away.
Remember Belgium and the Brussels museum. Where we piled on the front steps like stray cavaliers. Our code of living meant little to others. The few francs we saved, bought some cheap souvenirs.
I'm looking at a funeral wagon rolling down. A two-lane highway winding past a desert town. A big blue canvas painted by the Master's hand. The shifting clouds above and endless miles of sand.
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J'ai trop rêvé dans ma jeunesse. Aujourd'hui j'lance des S.O.S.. Et j'fous ma bouteille à la mer. Je cherche Amour beaucoup d'tendresse. Calins partout beaucoup d'caresse.
Must have been the right month. Must have been a good time. Must have counted every cloud in the sky that night. Every single glass of wine. . Must have kissed you 'till I hurt you.
Outside I can hear the fireworks. Beyond the paper walls. Where the symbols painted black and white. Run together when the rain falls. And the wind chimes across Kyoto.
When she gets up in the morning. It's enough to wake the dead. Oh she turning on the radio. And dancing on my head. . It's no good living in the sun. Playing guitar all day.