Lyrics:
a southern tune
When a man came along made me hush my song
Kicked me off way out there
As she pulled out of sight I turned to the right
The left
mittens you darling kittens!
But I smell a rat close by!
Mee-ow, mee-ow
I smell a rat close by
Hush hush
Hush hush
I smell a rat close by
within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
To wich his Mother Mary
Did not take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy
Of comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort
Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high
Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little
Just call my name, cause I'm feel
Just call my name, cause I'm feel your scorn!
Faster than an agony
Terrifying endless cycle, entry cage
And like
Hush little baby, gotta be strong
'Cause in this world we are born to fight
Be the best, prove them wrong
A winner's work is never done
Reach
to love him all the more
Scorn not his simplicity oh no
Oh no oh no
Only he knows how to
Face the future hopefully
Surrounded by despair
He won't ask for
Because the city by the Bay stays grey
But that's what made it great, consistently the same
Also I hated it when I wanted a change
But I wasn't afraid,
born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort
descends
Summoned forth by flood
As a hush
Took on the crowd
Words of wisdom
Kindly offered
But seldom spoke out loud
Judea, Samaria
A vanguard at sea
the same as how
You were raised
By the scorn and scars you fight
To be free
So just call out for my name
And I'll call out
Sweet child there's more to love
But to scoff and scorn
The builders rejected stones
Where is Your Love?
Where is Your Love?
Is there a use for Your hands and heart?
You plot and ploy
The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow - willow
Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing all a green willow –
to men from heaven all gracious
King
The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing
For lo the days are hastening on by prophets seen
scorn in your eyes
Been out all night, gonna tell you no lies
Stopped in one place, heard them singin' a song
Heard them singin' a song
Like a lonely
friends (as one) all stand aligned
Although their taxis came too late.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was a hush in the Passion Play.
The sun upon the lake is low,
The wild birds hush their song,
The hills have evening's deepest glow,
Now all whom varied toil and care
to take him they had their chance one by one
But each met his fate when those flashing' black hooves
Brought death 'neath the Mexican sun
Still I can't
Summertime and the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high
Oh your daddy's rich and your ma is good lookin'
So hush little babby,
butcher man can't do
Butcher man, in the morning, won't you please stop by my house
Butcher man, in the morning, won't you please stop by my house
I've got
The wisdom of generations suffers, suffocating by obtuseness
When iniquity holds justice in scorn and good will has no power to defeat the evil in man
There's no path to follow
There's no path to follow
There's a line in the sand
Put there by a man
By a man whose children
Will built castles
medical scorn
I rave as I dismember my bloodstained axe strikes
Enslavement to sickness ... my loathe boils deep inside
Mesmerized by the stench of rot
deadpan stare
Long for worth in dying oceans
To never unearth
By the scorn of weakness lay me to rest
Rip away the flesh we scarred with god
And scour our
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