Lyrics:
cracked a book;
I played the hook.
Never answered any mail;
To write I used to think was wasting ink.
It was never my endeavor
To be too clever
to Bob Dylan
Chillin'em, thrillin'em, and red hot killin'em
Said killin'em
Come on, come on killin'em
Get sick, get well, hand around a ink well
a postcard
Written in the ink of the sea
She chose the silence next to me
Release the birds from my pillow
Let them flow into your voice
Like a breath
The moths at the window,
They can see the light.
The crickets crick in the dark.
My pen runs out of ink,
As I start to write
The feelings that
Roses blooming again, ink on paper fading
Songs of loneliness, dance of the waiting
Tomorrow, he'll come to me in his arms I'll sleep
Tomorrow,
and lonely
The ink is running toward the page
It's chasin' off the days
Look back at both feet
And that winding knee
I missed your skin when you were
That's why you wanna be like me right?
Where you from again? Ok
Ink on the chestGot Ink on my hands
Fucking nine to five
I think I'm 'bout to go HAM
to Bob Dylan
Chillin'em, thrillin'em, and red hot killin'em
Said killin'em
Come on, come on killin'em
Get sick, get well, hand around a ink well
sighing
The ink is still drying
I told you the truth
And now I sigh too
The page turns on me and you
Across that white plain
The land is
Ringing through the land
A hundred honest men to wash
The ink stains from his hands
For the forging of words
Comes easy as sleep
Stones for Smith
something
I can feel
Oh, feel
The night is full of holes
'Cause bullets rip the sky of ink with gold
Sparkle as the boys play rock and roll
They know
you're around
Flashing curiously
Past the borders of the frame
Ink on the page
Eclipse me, reveal me
Eyes like nightshade
Eyes like nightshade
my teenaged years when I was running the ghetto streets
Now I had never seen me no ink blot test but it still felt good to me
I was doin' it when I
brave, shallow in an ink black well
Lightly browned in the fires of hell
Wicked, holy, full on fake
Best known for my big mistake
I'm Zen wise,
lines
They ensure the
Art shines
Keeping those
Deadlines
When they sign
Sign off on our designs
Pencil and dream's the key
A little bit of ink is all you
Always
The Ink Spots
Written by Irving Berlin
This version not released as a single
Five versions charted in 1926, two in 1944, and two more in
A work
That's never done
Father to son
Get it right
There's no blood thicker than ink
Hear what I say
Nothing's as simple as when you blink
Wake
I live in a jingle jangle jungle
If you ain't got it you can't be
Fightin' over crumbs
Wait till payday comes
Gettin' green ink thumbs
From
The ink is black, the page is white
Together we learn to read and write
A child is black, a child is white
The whole world looks upon the sight,
Up above me are the skies
Like the twinkle in your eyes
These things are the color of the blues
In the mail your letter came
The ink and paper
Big wheel (as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Yeah, yeah (ri-ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Ayy, ayy (ri-ridin' in the Chevy
is reported
On marble stones as black as ink
With gold and silver I did support her
But i´ll sing no more till i´ve had a drink
Well
put in the hours, wait, hold up a minute
Woke up today, thinking bout the ink pen, just asking the question like “When you gonna finish?”
Yeah, the ink
Around and gave me a wink
She said, I'm gonna mix it up
Right here in the sink
It smelled like turpentine
And looked like Indian ink
I held my nose,
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