Lyrics:
(Words and Music by Joan Baez)
It's only when the high winds blow that I wish my hair was long
Sailing through the autumn leaves singing an ancient
Tumble outta bed and I stumble to the kitchen
Pour myself a cup of ambition
And yawn and stretch and try to come to life
Jump in the shower
Tumble outta bed and I stumble to the kitchen
Pour myself a cup of ambition
And yawn and stretch and try to come to life
Jump in the shower
Crackling of the fireplace ain't even what I'm feeling
Body by your side but mentally floating on the ceiling
Take me for a ride and never find another
An axe in the face
His body is dissolving in a
Bathtub in Hell's Kitchen
I don't wanna leave anything out here
I guess I've killed maybe 20 people
Maybe
Fuck a fake nigga, I can die by myself
I only drive in sport
'cause the faster the better
Basketball seats, I got NBA leather
Shoot a nigga quick
If
coltish teeth like kitchen knives
And look down from abysmal cliffs
Their dead hair by the lead wind riffed
On denizens too deep to see
Whose own dreams
Steve, what's up man, it's me
Listen, I'm really sorry about today man
I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but I feel like shit
I'm
a hell of a year
She love how Im living
I was pushing that work in a civic
I was doing that dirt in the kitchen
Now Im balling I feel like a Piston
Im
sitting on the fence
You make me chuckle child, it's hells kitchen now, miss
Recognize your life is merely bait for bigger fish
I don't shrug, I study
the trouble's at
Exactly what the game's been missin'
This fire burns hot as Hell's Kitchen, Push
Now that's how the team go, I'm back from Santo Domingo
last
My lil yung niggas be hungry for cash
They come by bundles
We breaking down bells
They wasn't ready we giving them hell
Come through the mail put
Needs to get some help time to turn the page
Gets so frustrated by the things he’ll do
Don’t want nothing bad ever come on you
He wants to be good wants
Charles can see you got money
Ha ha ha ha ha
Aye
Aye, it's me
Smacked up hell, nah, they can't stop us
Before you leave, lilbro make sure you clean the pot
you?
Ah hell no, that's Santa Dawg, you ain't ever heard of Santa?
Nuh uh
Santa Claus, Saint Nick?
Nah
Kris Kringle?
Man nah!
You ain't ever heard
Ice Cube sell out? You say, "Hell no!"
A black woman is my manager, not in the kitchen
So could you please stop bitchin'?
"Stalkin', walkin' in my
right
Got him in the Hell hole
Livin at the speed of light
Prayin that the time fly by so
He can see the light
See his kids meet a wife
All over a key
that you spittin
Purple haze a fake crook get cooked and burnt
And baked the fuck up in Hell's Kitchen
I ain't one of these bitch ass niggas
That
to the house, but she stopped by the store, so we decorated the kitchen, it was birthday galore,
Flowers in a vase, a cake in it’s a place,
A written poem
I can tell they be cappin' by they eyes (Yeah, yeah)
Releasing hell, better talk to me nice (Yeah, yeah)
I wish you well but if I see you it's
Tell me
When will he ever understand?
He can't just expect the world to
Always go by his plans
And chances are that he'll never know
How hard it is for
It's hot in hell's kitchen, get ready for the lynching
Brain-wash media, and puppet politician
Keep you out of position, out of commission
By medicine
You ask me how I'm livin?, this hit?s for you
But that's not all we got the prize
A mother in a kitchen, now yo, she's dead inside
Yeah, we took them
a thief (never), that nigga stole, he'll probably steal again
Chasin' that first high, knowin' that's somethin' she won't feel again (she know it)
Took
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