Prayed in the ghetto With my face in the cement Heard the last moan of a boxer Seen the massacre of the innocent Felt around for the light switch Turned
In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed There?s a dyin? voice within
Heart of mine, be still You can play with fire but you'll get the bill Don't let her know Don't let her know that you love her Don't be a fool, don't
Lenny Bruce is dead But his ghost lived on and on Never did get any Golden Globe award Never made it to Synanon He was an outlaw, that's for sure More
Satan got you by the heel, there's a bird's nest in your hair Do you have any faith at all, do you have any love to share? The way that you hold your
I was in your presence for an hour or so Or was it a day? I truly don't know Where the sun never set, where the trees hung low By that soft and shining
Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm You got your rabbit's foot, you got your good-luck charm But they can't help you, none when there's trouble
I need a shot of love I need a shot of love I need a shot of love I need a shot of love I need a shot of love I need a shot of love If you're a doctor
Go ahead and talk about him because he makes you doubt Because he has denied himself the things that you can't live without Laugh at him behind his back
, Capture your heart and hold it for ransom. You don't want a love that's pure You wanna drown love You want a watered-down love Love that's pure, it
. I need a shot of love, I need a shot of love. I need a shot of love, I need a shot of love. If you're a doctor, I need a shot of love.
Fordítás: Dylan, Bob. Shot Of Love.
: Heart of mine be still, You can play with fire but you'll get the bill. Don't let her know Don't let her know that you love her. Don't be a fool, don
: Lenny Bruce is dead but his ghost lives on and on Never did get any Golden Globe award, never made it to Synanon. He was an outlaw, that's for sure
got you by the heel, there's a bird's nest in your hair. Do you have any faith at all? Do you have any love to share? The way that you hold your head
: Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm, You got your rabbit's foot, you got your good-luck charm. But they can't help you none when there's trouble
: In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed There's a dyin' voice
