Lyrics:
possibly
Conceived of Shakespeare
So we can never possibly imagine our destiny
Look, if you take the whole of time represented by one year
But only in
On your record in a stolen expedition, play it safe
As the record spinnin' you was hearin' angels entertain
Every pun intended, that was wicked, comin'
Hay-hi-diddly-I
And out goes she
Skippin' ropes still turnin',
Children at their play
In and out of Catherine St,
In and out to pray
I haven't prayed for
A song by the prettiest angel he'd ever seen
Back when Nashville was swingin' and making them deals
While old Buck was out strolling the streets
the ashtray
(Look at shorty y'all) He bout to go out like Scarface
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
with Thug Angels singin, sayin
{uh-huhhh
Verbal Irony
The Angel came on the day he was born
And took her life and all the family cried
In between happiness and sadness
Time went by
busted once again
I can tell you now; it comes as no surprise
I can tell you now; by that look in your eyes
Gimme the sweet and lowdown
You’re looking
listened
And every failure made us pessimistic
But then one day, they let us tell our vision
Angel hearted turned to devil living
It felt like we were
and now you're busted once again
I can tell you now; it comes as no surprise
I can tell you now; by that look in your eyes
Gimme the sweet and lowdown
were sent here by God
I believe they were angels
They came into my life and had a tremendous impact on me
In fact I felt blessed by their presence
They
To fill this hole in my heart
Bring on the angel, bring on true love
I've been fooled by the devil
But Lord I'm listening now
I know I haven't
this coming months ago
(Shit)
Not a day goes by
I don't think about our first night
Start feeling
Like I wish I woulda listened to my gut feelings
night sitting in her room
Talking to her diary
She could hear the people screamin' at her feet
Goodbye lonely misery
All of her live she'd listened
wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It's something in between, I guess
It's closing time
wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It's something in between, I guess
It's closing time
wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
Looks like freedom but it feels like death
It's something in between, I guess
It's closing time
like much of a lover,
But don't judge a book by it's cover.
He's got the face of an Angel but
There's a Devil in his eyes.
He's such a delicate
tell if I'm walking on land or sea
Workin' every angle like Johnny B Goode
Dancin' like the devil in a three-piece suit
Beauty never comes without some
But Nestor learned a secret as he listened to the breeze
And the angels gave directions to the ears that touched his knees
Look at little Nestor, his
Seven lonely days in a fifty ton lorry
I know you made me what I am
And I fall to pieces
Johnny Cash in black singin'
Undertand your man from
St.
never found his prom queen
Pinch me once pinch me twice
Pinched a car and I met the vice
Run Johnny run guess what they're not so nice
Lock me in a cuff
I drove a long, long way without drinking
I listened to the Baptist Radio
There was a blue-gray sky as I passed the ghost town by
And headed down
all of my might
But was scared by the look in his eyes
Like he'd already lost the fight
And there was no hope ever in sight
No hope in the air
No
fade to black my vile lover.
Everything we did, made me feel on edge
A young starlet hanging on by a thread
Alice lost in a nightmare again
The final
.jpg/300px-Johnny_Maestro_&_The_Brooklyn_Bridge_(crop).jpg "Johnny Maestro & the Brooklyn Bridge")
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