Lyrics:
Soon we'll come to the end of life's journey
And perhaps never meet anymore
Till we gather in Heaven's bright city
Far away on that beautiful shore
gone
But she wasn't letting on
That she was grieving
She's bound to go
Perhaps she'll find him waiting
For his boat in some city far away
He'd go straight sure as fate
For it never is too late
For a man
I just like to dream
Of a cottage by a stream
With my man
Where a few flowers
about my reputation
Across the nation, "Mr. I get around"
My temptation got me drippin' wet, perspiration
I'm activated by the moves you makin'
Baby,
Look, he's crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris
He'd go straight sure as fate
For it never is too late
For a man
I just like to dream
Of a cottage by a stream
With my man
Where a few flowers
(As performed by George Jones)
I'm lookin' for that Lonely Street
I've got a sad, sad tale to tell
I need a place to go and weep
Where's this
He'd go straight sure as fate
For it never is too late
For a man
I just like to dream
Of a cottage by a stream
With my man
Where a few flowers
I was a highwayman
Along the coach roads I did ride
With sword and pistol by my side
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
Many
To shave-a da Pope!
Mr Sweeney-so-smart
Oh, I beg-a your pardon-'ll
Call me a liar, was-a only a cardinal
Nope!
It was-a da Pope!
Perhaps, signorini,
I was a highwayman along the coach roads I did ride
With sword and pistol by my side
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
Many a soldier
love
I'd be lost and so easily led
I guess I was caught
By that hint of a smile on her face
I thought I was happy
When my life was as easy as pie
But
something that can be done by two
For I'd really like to stay
It's a lovely day today
And whatever you've got to do
I'd be so happy to be doing it with
If we never meet again this side of Heaven
As we struggle through this world and its strife
There's another meeting place somewhere in heaven
By
certainly
Disturbing. Perhaps the staff in the refreshment stand was overcome by
The monotony of their work and decided to play a childish prank."
Buffoon: "I
scream
Now bow down and praise the lord for the wing ding
I got skill to deal and run game on bitches
You can tell that I'm sick by the triple sixes
I
God's graces
And the birth of the rebel Jesus
Well they call him by 'the Prince of Peace'
And they call him by 'the Savior'
And they pray to him
I'm far away from rappin'
Bumpin' Prince, Sade, or some Marvin Gaye perhaps, I
Put up my blues, put on some tailor made slacks
Some wing tip shoes,
from rappin'
Bumpin' Prince, Sade, or some Marvin Gaye perhaps, I
Put up my blues, put on some tailor-made slacks
Some wing-tip shoes, whatchu know
Now why this man's soul was bleeding
The angel had to understand
So invisible, he stood by him
And then gently touched his hand
Which
recall our youth
Perhaps you'll say that I'm uncouth
But it's high time you knew the truth
About the way you make me feel
And what the future holds in
the meanest guy in town
If I were on his boogie list, I'd get out of town
He'll be so pleased by our success
That he'll reward us too, I bet
Perhaps he'll
I'm not my former
It's hard when you're stuck upon the shelf
I changed by not changing at all
Small town predicts my fate
Perhaps that's what no
Look, he's crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now he's up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris
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