Margaret came to me was all he said. Before she knew my name she was in my bed. She was only sweet sixteen. Twenty thousand days younger than me. . Marry me she said, I don't reply.
Our Day Will Come. (Kirk McLeod). . Come on down. Where the air. Meets the sea. In such great wonderful beauty. And where. Without light. You can see.
I count the cracks in the pavement.. Where the weeds and wishes grow.. Every car is a reminder.. That there's someplace else to go.. I steal a moment beside you..
Old Ground. (Kirk McLeod). . In sadness. I cover old ground. In sweet bitterness. I'm spinning around. I've tried to be different and I've tried to keep clean.
Oh yeah. She says, "We can't tell them". Oh yeah she wants up front. I can't do that. . When you gonna make up your mind?. When you gonna make up your mind?.
O'er the Moor and Among the Heather. (Traditional, arranged by Dan Stacey and Kirk McLeod).
Nothing. (Kirk McLeod/Bob Marley). . I don't want to wait in vain for you love. I don't want to wait in vain. I don't want to wait in vain for you love.
Some things are made to be broken. Some things are made to be kept. We're in the space between what's over and what's left. If I tried too hard to keep you.
No Reason. (Kirk McLeod). . He can't believe his eyes. But with much surprise. Believes. She won't be back today. I thought I heard her say. Goodbye. .
The deaf old Duke he came to town. Asking all the men around. Is there any here who'd fight for me?. The Czar in Russia wants the Dardonelles. C'mon boys, let's give 'em hell.
Angel go to sleep. She says her prayers goodnight. You're water in the ear to me. But they make her feel alright. . A green-gold stregch of road. Is what she's dreamin' of.
Mother Mary. (Words and music by Kirk McLeod, arranged by Seven Nations). . Mother Mary close enough to dying. Knows what she wants. And still keeps on trying on for.
Mean Mr. Mustard says, "He's bored of life in The District. Can't afford the French Quarter high". Says, "It gets old real quick". And he pales up next to me.
Well I know what the truth is and. I know where my heart is and. I sometime feel there's something missing. someone somewhere I'm not forgiving. I find it hard believing and I feel so deceiving.
These grievous goals. That hang around my skull. Are disappearing in numbers. The scattered fires inside of me. Have reached their permanent slumber. .
Echoes the sound of a rusty box. Around it goes till out something pops. A toothless lion, he is weak and he is old. And he scares me every time. . I feel my knees shake underneath.
You were my first mistake. And even if that's true. I would take that punch again. If it would bring me back. . I thought I changed for you. It turns out just not enough.
Hollow eyes, drifting melodies. Where is our bright spark?. The world is turned inside-out. I'm choking on the dark. . So I tilt my head to Heaven. I'm reminded that.
There's a tall, a mulatto, boy, I know. And he comes to every party, he stands alone. In viewing them the rest, a corner of his glance. It gets so clear, he's not judging anyone.