Search results for the moan by the black keys

We've found 1,034 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching the moan by the black keys:


Albums:

Black Snake Moan [Original Soundtrack] (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Black Snake Moan [Original Soundtrack] (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Black Snake Moan: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Black Snake Moan (Blind Lemon Jefferson) · Trambone Moan (Big Bill Bissonnette) · The Moan (The Black Keys) · The Moan (The Black Keys) · Clarksdale Moan (1930-1942) (Son House) · Black Lion Connoisseur/Lions Abroad, Vol. 2: Lion on the Keys (Hutchinson, Hutch) · The Black Keys [EP] (The Six Parts Seven) – and 90 other albums »


He trembles in the bitter wind
Until it's time for us to speak
Whilst others here are sleeping sound
I'll slip away by floorboard creak

Upon
The people's key
Ringing through arena seats
The black machine
Played it all from memory
A fever dream
Well, I'll come back eventually
To wade
and underground. Yes the black buzzards smile. Oh yes, the gates moan. Calling for me to rescue. They all weep into my bones. Summer dress. Handsome smile. Lovers
the southwest horizon,
With the scream of an eagle on the fly,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And listen to the ripples as they moan,
I will walk
death moans 
See the smooth black nuggets by the thousands laying here 

Petrified but justified are these Apache tears 
Dead grass dry roots hunger
out about the goings on

They tell us what they want - they don't give an inch
Look at the pictures taken by the cameras they cannot lie
The truth
out about the goings on

They tell us what they want - they don't give an inch
Look at the pictures taken by the cameras they cannot lie
The truth
Facing the great black sky, drowning in my worst nightmare, hole-filled
heart traumatized by the fear of my own existence Man no longer needed,
The black smokestack was barking
The steam made them pistons groan
And behind that screaming whistle
You could hear that engine moan
The train was
Soldier punches the code opens the airlock with ease
Sealing himself from the world turning computerised keys
Nuclear missile a top secret course
taken by the cameras they cannot lie
The truth is in what you see, not what you read
Little men tapping things out, points of view
Remember their views
taken by the cameras they cannot lie
The truth is in what you see, not what you read
Little men tapping things out, points of view
Remember their views
said hang on, hang on
Black lung heartache

I've seen many men
They become hard as nails
Carrying the hammers like keys to a jail

Now I said hang
spray painted black
With fake leather seats from Warren's

Though the wind may whisper and moan sometimes
On a hot desert night it is still
Though
don't hesitate (sex in the morning, sex all day)
I left the keys so let your self in baby (sex in the morning, sex all day)

Now drop your bags pull
If a black man is racist, is it okay?
When it's the white man's racism that made him that way,
Because the bully's the victim they say,
By some
day long gone
The silk dilemma is the key, it's still for me

One by one the lights fade out
The fright-night covers all with her cloak
You cannot name
gone, fall by my hand.

The night will fall, the axe will drop,
The key will turn, the door will lock,
The needle will push, the pain will stop,
shock

Fade to black

Your mind is full of evil thoughts
Your senses dulled as your body rots
You will go down on my command
Your will is gone, fall by my
Siouxsie Sioux
How long'd it take to get that way?
What a terrible waste of energy

You wear black clothes say you're poetic
The sad truth is you're
taken by the cameras they cannot lie
The truth is in what you see, not what you read
Little men tapping things out, points of view
Remember their views
Junkie nurse, o junkie nurse
I met you on 11th street
You dropped by and got me high
Your smile just leave me beat 

Junkie nurse, o junkie
have to find our own way

Life's not always very easy
There are times when it all feels black
But I tell you there is always a way

And the key
eighty-eight spray painted black
With fake leather seats from Warren's

Though the wind may whisper and moan sometimes
On a hot desert night it is still
On the counter 
By your keys 
Was a book of numbers 
And your remedies 
One of these 
Surely will screen out the sorrow 
But where are you tomorrow

I