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Search results for 'thread by 200 years'

Yee yee! We've found 140 lyrics, 19 artists, and 100 albums matching thread by 200 years.


Albums:

200 Sixties Hits: 200 Classic No. 1 Songs from the 60s (Hutchinson, Hutch) · 200 Years of Country Music/In Prison, in Person (Sonny James) · 200 Years of American Music (Lawrence Welk) · 200 Years of American Heritage in Song: 100 Song Collection (Great American String Band) · 200 Years of American Heritage (Great American String Band) · 200 Years of Country Music (Sonny James) · The Golden Thread (Stellamara) · The River & the Thread (Rosanne Cash) · The Red Thread (Arab Strap) · Hanging on by a Thread (The Letter Black) – and 90 other albums »


Rolling back the years (years, years)
Flowing by like tears (tears, tears)
Rolling back the years (years, years)
The years I've seen before

Torn curtain
world by surprise
Stood right next to Elvis in Memphis and looked him straight in the eyes
Ten years later young Bocephus busted through the door
And I
Your thread runs through
Park Avenue
Street of dreams and sorrow

Seven years up the road and two blocks south
On the run from a sudden rain with
Please save me from myself
Almost a year now
And I'm still hanging by a thread
If it was love that I'm feeling now
I wouldn't let it sway
If it
tears rolling back the years
Years, flowing by like tears.
Tears holding back the years.
Years. The tears I never shed.
The years I've seen before
unravelling
And you can’t hold it together anymore
But God will, He will finish what He started
No thread will be left unwoven
Nothing will be left undone
Summer child that sits by the water
Weaving sunlight threads in his hands
The golden river that day a shelter
A stream where he could make pebbles
close and open
Pull us in or pass us by
We have followed the fabric

Where ever it led
Joined to one an other by
Invisible thread
We were mean mama
who deserves to buckle
I wanna kill sam cause he ain't my motherfuckin uncle!

"we've gone nowhere in 200 years?" "that's correct"
"we-we-we've gone
There's a letter for the one that jumped highest
And one ran faster by far
One broke the 200 meters
And one broke her arm on the bar

The baseball team
Wears easily 

Why did I ever think 
You'd come back to me? 
I guess I'll keep on dreaming 
Years are passing by 
So slowly 

Why did I ever think
And she has a dress of laces
It's worn in many places
The shoulder hangs upon her by a thread
And she has a need for sharin'
For someone warm
right then
I feel that she peeled back my guilty disguise

Did I break the thread, or did you break the thread?
Well at this point we could ask who
right then
I feel that she peeled back my guilty disguise

Did I break the thread, or did you break the thread?
Well at this point we could ask who
hanging by a slender thread of hope
Now it's closing time again, she turns her collar to the wind
Goes running in the rain to a friend on the way back
better men, then we'd ever been before?
Well 200 yeras ago
Say if she came again today, would you still answer to the call?
Or tomorrow
Tell the truth my
hangin' 
By a thread 

Father 
Where were you? 
Where were... 

To my father 
How could you run? 
You walked away 
Abandoned your son 
Broke my
The evidence my cashmere sanity is unraveling thread by thread

but I am fine

they're putting something in my pills to try to break into my brain
I know that it
true colors of my home

[Repeat: x4]
Where I am paralyzed by the emptiness 
Every mile for ten thousand miles and every year for a thousand years
In my Blakean year I was so disposed
Toward a mission yet unclear Advancing pole by pole

Fortune breathed into my ear Mouthed a simple ode
One
The calendar year is an imperial narrative. The seven-day week is an imperial infliction. Circannual holidays are imperial flag-posts. Mechanical
The legacy of what has gone
Our paths connected by a thread
Only remains of the lies we led
Impart the weight of the years we shed
Lights are down
No one's around
But faces in the glass
Where did they go nobody knows
But everybody asks
The one they loved for so many years
britches 

Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to take stitches 

There's nothing in the house but a leaf end of rye 

And the harp with a with
britches 

Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to take stitches 

There's nothing in the house but a leaf end of rye 

And the harp with a with