the microphone Like a drug rush through my veins I can't escape it Do you wanna go where the gleaming lights get low And you know the kind of place that feels like home
I believe in strangers, wherever they may be All the souls who shape the world look pretty strange to me Never met no president or shook a Gandhi?s hand
Some men like the pulpit Some men like the pew But every man, every man likes you Some men like the money Some men like the fame Some men like little
Delilah stroked his hair, But he was cut down then and there by The giant scissors of time. The giant scissors of time. Like a butterfly floating free
Death flashed out of the skies, Fueled by terrorists telling lies, A fireball searing our eyes, Burning deep into our brains. One hundred and ten stories
She says, "I'm leaving' my friend And I don't wanna see you When I'm walking on my way home It is always on my way home" Maria quietly talks to me She
so far This is no place like home Persistance of time And visions of my own destiny come back to me This is no place like home Nothing rings true nothing
be panic, I can feel A peace Strangely, now I know my purpose... Hey boys! Hey, get out while you Can I'll try to take us home I'm going home...
I heard the men saying something The captains tell they pay you well And they say they need sailing men to Show the way and leave today Was it you that
This foolish game it's stil the same The notes go flying off in the air And don't you believe it's true, music is all for you It's really all we have
(Instrumental)
men oh and she won't want you then Cause she's never met a man she didn't like Oh no she's never met a man she didn't like
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so easy But mama don't like my man No, she don't like my man Don't like the way he's dressed Or the cigarettes he smokes Don't like the company he keeps
Shit ain't a game and Sean feel the same So, y'all niggas betta get on point Well it seems like our bad boys have theirselves in a bit of a jam Seems like
nuthin' to a boss, I heat you like air off It ain't nuthin', they ain't cuttin', they frontin', that's they loss 'Cause the, 'tics is good, and the van
out like Key won I feel like ceramic in a hammoc God damn it Thats my words Oohs and Aahs Slurred like a verb Someone acting like an ass like a metaphor
a no-no Livin' low like de la soul it's the 'O' And the folks don't understand, yes you can Rush, shake the van and catch the Ice Cream Man They know