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he's just your run-of-the-mill dragon, you know.
St. George:	Mmm-hmm. Yes, Sir. You can go now.
Knave:		Hey, by the way, how you gonna catch him?
St.
he's just your run-of-the-mill dragon, you know.
St. George:	Mmm-hmm. Yes, Sir. You can go now.
Knave:		Hey, by the way, how you gonna catch him?
St.
(George)
Who did you say it was brother
Who was it fell by the way
When whiskey and blood ran together
Did you hear anyone pray?

(Gene)
When
by her
 
I've said this before now
You said I was childish and you'll say it now
"Remember what I told you
If they hated me they will hate you"
the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It's the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that's why I'm leaving
I don't want him
to the muscles of the dancers 
In this close and smoky room 

Who were you then? 
Were you sure of your tune? 
Or were your dreams and your courage all broken
goes fifteen ways
I dunno which way to go
The mob goes fifteen ways
and my head, my poor head
feels like a smashed window 

George is twenty four,
Written by Redd Stewart and Ernest Tubb
(As performed by George Jones) 
When the postman delivered the letter
Well, it filled her old heart full
(George Jones)
« © '63 Glad Music »

Well here I stand on this high ground
Looking out over this great big town
Searching for love that didn't
I'm made to feel no sympathy
I may as well be dead
I know my life means more than this
But selfishness has been my creed
Is there a way to feel again
offended by Chri-biip-mas?
You know you might offend the biiiip and the biiiip and the atheists.
What?
Time to politically correct.

I'll lead this off.
the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It's the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that's why I'm leaving
I don't want him
the mythical land of Madame George and roses
It's the home of police who kill black boys on mopeds
And I love my boy and that's why I'm leaving
I don't want him
I met him in a club hangin out one night
He said, "Hello I'm George.. hi Lyte!
How's everything goin, huh, how ya doin?
Hope everything's fine, ooh,
Here we go
George george george of the jungle watch out for that tree
Or if you're an emcee watch out for me and my man Jazzy
Ahh just hitting it
(Chapin Hartford/George Teren)

The fences are mended, the bills are all paid
And I feel kinda guilty for feeling this way
For all you that you
loves you this way
So put on your red dress baby
And one more time let me see you smile
See you smile tonight

There's the abandoned train
Where we
lukewarm
Tell the woman be easy naah squeeze the charmin
Test wyclef, see death flesh get scorned
Beat you so bad make you feel like you ain't want to be
Who am I? Where am I?
Why do I feel this way?

Have you ever felt that it's someone else living your life?
The image of you only better, it's
of our lives so that we are literally wiping our ass with out own future?

And it doesn't have to be this way! I mean, I'll tell you, I do feel kind
lukewarm

Tell the woman be easy Naah squeeze the Charmin
Test Wyclef, see death flesh get scorned.
Beat you so bad make you feel like you ain't want
and GS'ses 
On the court niggaz I leave like messages 
Plagued by this ball player exorcist 
It's sort of foul how the world be reffin us 
Kenny is our
a chauffeur
These niggas need Jesus, fuck it, niggas need Oprah
All this killing and this pimping and these foul ways of living
See, everyone's forgetting
to that someone who can't take the puressure
Mercy for that poor fu who made the news
Who feel pissed on that insist on killing all men
Can't take
the gold guitars and fiddles hanging on the wall
And then he said "Step over this way
There are some of your friends I know you'll want to see
They're

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