Lyrics:
glistening
Like dew on a carpet lawn
In these dark towns folk lie sleeping
As the heavy horses thunder by
To wake the dying city
With the living
go with her
Hold your head high, oh no nigga
Get cash like the old folks
Dodge potholes when you on spokes
Hold the .45 smokin' on dope
All white
Hollywood.
That gasoline's in short supply,
The rising cost of getting by.
But I believe in love.
I believe in old folks.
I believe in children.
I
Lucky Me,
Lucky, Lucky Me
I have everything in the whole wide world a girl could ever need,
Lucky Me (lucky, lucky, little old me)
I've got
wings
And you'll take to the sky
But till that morning cuz
There ain't nothing can harm you
With daddy and mama standing by
Ooh
There's a boat that's
(Klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack-klack)
Yo, the year of the Blacksmith
It ain't defined by any calender
Just thought I'd remind all you challengers, uh
Some folks might say that I?m no good
That I wouldn't settle down if I could
I love to see the towns go crawling by
There's something I've got to do
bastard style has just been stuck
By a sticker with a 'frigerator lickin'
What if how's about why would ever thought that
The napalm would bust your
with the youth of the day
“Old folk wait in line here we’ll give you free wine, beer, you’ll be smilin’ when you get to the showers
Your service was long
I was down in music city 'bout a week ago
I wanted to see the brand old Loper show
So I held a cap and I headed down to Opryland
They said they
lonesome
And it makes me wonder how the old folks are at home
Now the years have blown by me like the wind through the pines
But the song of the south
world wide webs they weave, we caught in 'em
Old folks is dyin' and CEO's skimmin'
The bat's in your hand and this is the 9th inning
Keep your eyes
boarded up, Main Street pretty much closed down.
The church bell still rings on Sunday, old folks still go, the young ones listen on the radio.
Saturday
behind
I haven't any gold
To leave when I grow old
Somehow its passed by
I'm very poor but still
I leave a precious will
When i must say goodbye
in iraq
You don't know I rock?
What you under a rock?
Old cats beggin us to bring that beat back
Each generation thinks
The next one is wack
Folk Legacy 65 in the key of C.
Also by Frankie Armstrong on Bird in the Bush and by Carthy
Child #44
Filename[ MAGICN2
DC
===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===
keep on increasin' the paces
Brick by brick we go
Finesse if I don't fold
Invest for when I'm old
Solutions what I'm told
I sound real good on Bose
We
(I don't know like
I be trying to trust but I can't even Trust nobody
I don't know I just be going with the Motion
Shit get old to me sometimes)
Yeah sad story I'ma need help though
Uh little black boy wasn't how most folks was
And he stayed to himself cause he didn't do what most folks does
the good die young do the bad die old? (Let me know)
I'm just trying to carry my load another good nigga livin' by the bad guy code
Lookin' for the Lord
wealth up I don't chit chat cause I'm real
Let's break it down by skill
Let's break it down by who just be keeping it real
Let's break it down by who got
by the sea baby
Long Beach there never be no peace on the East Side
In the city by the sea
Some folks treat dogs better than ninjas
Wish a fool would
still son, stop squirmn' around
Another sacred Sundays coming down"
I can almost hear the old folks say,
"You'll make it big one day, you'll leave
still son, stop squirmn' around
Another sacred sundays coming down"
[Instrumental break]
I can almost hear the old folks say:
"You'll make it
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