Lyrics:
A Jim Croce song
All that I want is
A girl who can roar like
A girl who can roar like
Woodstock Janis Joplin
All that I want is
A girl who can roar like
that it might all come true ... everyday.
Written By: Gerry Rafferty and Jim Rafferty
Drums/Percussion: Arran Ahmun
Keyboards: Pavel Rosak
Four-leaf clover, frost in September
Stomped all over these delicate petals
Stuck in grief now, leaves in a jailhouse
Froze the blooms down, but you
jet because she was ready for the jim
Browski I doubt thee e would front
So like a real stunt, I rolled the blunt
She was ready, I could see in her face
dog Jim no one knows him at the gym
My dog Bin the race is run now let's begin
Swim, swim, swim
We're all in the water just a going for a swim
Swim,
Mob ties, living legend the live
That's what I go by
And the lean double sealed
Pour the whole thing in the soda
Won't fall away, my nigga
Pull up
work
Sittin' by the fire
The radio does play
The classical music there, Jim
The march of the wooden soldiers
All you protest kids
You can hear Jack
so now in Midtown
You want to stop and talk to me?
Bitch ass journalist, is this your fake hip-hop publication?
Look I'm burnin' this
How
inspired by Kenzo
The roof is like Ghostface, can it be so simple
40 keys in a rental
My dogs bring it back, now you name a better kennel
I keep cash,
puritan.
This is the grim reefer
The smack at the end of the straw
With a high grim quota
Your star Karma Jim
New Puritan.
The conventional is now
to the schools like locusts
Cause school now relates to them, and you would notice
Violence in society would be a minimal
Cause the education yeah, would now be
Putting rocks in my socks if they stick me in a jailhouse
They caught me being naughty
But Santa's got the bailout
Thank you for this weaponry
I wish
Jim
Come home Jimmy 'cause you need a bath
Your grandpa Jimmy is still gone daft
Now there's buffalo Jim and buffalo Jim
And Jim Buffalo now
I was on the playground playing by ear
I just hit the jailhouse homie shit's clear
If I ran out I would only switch gears
If I ran out I would air
he sell techs, and he sell D"
The balla by the bar saying
"Everybody drink, the best champagne
It's all on me"
Snitch in the back of the police car
Instrumental
Bye bye Jimmy, you're always fucking us.
Bye bye Jimmy, will see you in another life.
Day by day, you're making fights,
and people are angry about
matters
Cooking pancakes up on the stove
Cooking pancakes up on the stove
Flapjack duty bid for by my wife
Making chocolate chips my now normal life
Cooking
I'll tell you a story
About a girl who came my way
We upped and married
Three kids, a dog in Sante Fe
Now she's gone I'm by myself
I'm
the railway
And drill, ye tarriers, drill
Now our new foreman was Jim McCann
By blazes, he was a callous man
Last week a premature blast went off
And a mile in
Landing in this jam with man and then began dying
We slegna see dread through these retna's
We beg to be swept up by the blessed head inspecta
But all
feelin ill (ill)
It's the shop for a now nigga givin' out deals
(It's all about the Benjamen's baby)
I'm flying off Lennox, in the Bentley all crazy
had shit
Now I got it in my hand
All my brothers got Jeeps
And my mama got land
All my bills paid with a couple deer stamps
Still ain't bought a Ferrari
to Heaven?
Oh, you don't know the shape I'm in.
Aw, here it comes!
I just spent sixty days in the jailhouse,
For the crime of havin' no dough, no.
Now
grenade
I've spiked the punch, a little too much
It tastes a bit rough,but it keeps you in touch
I'll never forget, the promise I made
Now have a taste
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