Search results for road documentary by muse

We've found 19 lyrics, 44 artists, and 100 albums matching road documentary by muse:



fingers broken
To be insulted by these fascists is so degrading
And it's no game

Documentaries on refugees
Couples 'gainst the target
Throw a rock
game

Documentaries on refugees
Couples 'gainst the target
You throw a rock against the road
And it breaks into pieces
Draw the blinds on yesterday
game

Documentaries on refugees
Couples 'gainst the target
You throw a rock against the road
And it breaks into pieces
Draw the blinds on yesterday
Documentaries on refugees
Couples 'gainst the target
You throw a rock against the road
And it breaks into pieces
Draw the blinds on yesterday
And it's all so
on familiar roads
I sense the marks I left on the hills
I see the cuts and wounds of my deeds
They make me muse on life

Up the hill and the mountain
I
callin´
What have i to lose?
Truckin´ by the railway station
I´m on the road again
Steerin´ clear of all temptation
Unto the point
This is tomorrow's callin'
Wishin` you were here
Layin' in my hotel bedroom
Feelin' ceilin' blues
Wall to wall a TV's twitchin'
Clearly not a muse
Well I've walked alone, I've walked down this long road
Some walk alongside for awhile and then go
I think back on them as the days go by
there right by your side

Comin' down that cross, I ain't singin' no more blues
Traded in that old has been rusted worn out muse

It's been twenty
the view
So much beauty
The road becomes my muse
The heat is rising
And my hand surfs through the wind
Cool, calm, collected
Is the child that lies within
I've been traveling all these years,
Just barely getting by.
The road can be your friend
Or the devil in disguise.

When the tough get going,
Where there's wrong there's always right
That's what's kept us on this road tonight.
Sand as far as the eye can see
Ain't it funny how the world
I ran down the road, pants down to my knees
Screaming "please come help me, that Canadian shaman gave a little too much to me!"
And I'm writing
on the lights
As they drive by
World on the side (?) keep your eyes on the road

Hands on the wheel
Don't let us slip this is almost a nightmare

Turn, turn
stupidity. 

It's not the road, the space around me ripped,
And I was chased by white birds that don't sing,
That are always there but I can't touch.

I
made my mum get sad
Sat counting about 25 bags
I'm running out of elastic bands
It turns out, when you make money on the road
There's nothing you can do
and hand me down poetry
It's brick white-washed walls widowed by first paint
The tin roof top humming songs of promise while time is
Locked into demonic
ocean
Well my best friends down in Mexico
I wonder how he’s doing
I wonder if he knows 
That I spent the night in a cheap motel by the side
here, but I drove
And you allowed me
Or maybe it's only me that remembers it
'Cause you're so easily told about me
But not once while we were on that road