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FRASER/RODGERS. . Broad daylight. Broad daylight. Broad daylight. See the smoke fills my room. Curl and whisper in the gloom. Then I long for the day. When the sun comes out to say. Broad
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The more I learn the less I know. Could you make mine straight absolute?. The more I fail the less I try. Ask not of me the reason why. . Oh, my sentimental fool. Have I got a tale for you. Oh
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. . Repeat 1. . Down wit the all and together down crew. The jizza, the rizza, me of course too. The thing I'm analyzing is strickly Hip Hop. That's what's made, well made is on my workshop. You was
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The wine it was drunk, the ship it was sunk,. The shot it was dead, all the sorrows were drowned. The birds they were clouds, the brides and the shrouds. And as we drew south the mist it came down
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). Don preston (electric piano). Arthur tripp (drums, percussion). Jimmy carl black (drums). Members of the bbc symphony orchestra (just a few weeks before this show, the pope had announced a ban on
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(Powell, Turner, Upton, Turner). Screen Gems Publishing. Bird, rise high from the cinders, leave it all behind,. All the ruins and the fire. Bird, raise your head from the ashes - many men lay
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Lately I've been thinking how much I miss my lady. Amoreena's in the cornfield brightening the daybreak. Living like a lusty flower, running through the grass for hours. Rolling through the hay
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They say they'll take it away to reassure them that the future is there. I hear the words that they say but don't believe them. We take the control, the hours taking it's toll. From the back of my
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the cost of living. I've been afraid. Of what's before mine eyes. Every answer found. Begs another question. The further you go, the less you know. The less I know. . I can feel your face
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Hey can you follow,. Now that the trace is fainter. In the sand. Try turning your face to the wall. Can you still read me. Now that the chase is wilder. In your hand. Try losing your place in
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She's quite the mediator. A smoother operator you will never see. She'll see you later. No one dare disobey her openly. . She knows music. I know music too, you see. She got the power. The
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The paper called it suicide. A bullet from a forty-five. Nobody cared and nobody cried. Don't that make you feel sad?. . Peter brent combed his hair. And sent for the police. Policeman came
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The paper called it suicide. A bullet from a forty-five. Nobody cared and nobody cried. Don't that make you feel sad?. . Peter brent combed his hair. And sent for the police. Policeman came
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The paper called it suicide. A bullet from a forty-five. Nobody cared and nobody cried. Don't that make you feel sad?. . Peter brent combed his hair. And sent for the police. Policeman came
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I bought a toothbrush, some toothpaste. A flannel for my face. Pajamas, a hairbrush. New shoes and a case. I said to my reflection. Let's get out of this place. Past the church and the steeple
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(Latimer/Bardens/Ward). Sleepless nights, restless days. Memories of her gentle ways. Love locked out looks for a home. A place to find a shelter from the storm. . She said you are the air I
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Disraeli Gears. You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever,. But you rode upon a steamer to the violence of the sun. And the colours of the sea bind your eyes with trembling
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