Lyrics:
When the broken-hearted love again (background singer)
I know a man who hides out in his room
His only friends are silence and the gloom
I don't
The drummer of this group was this astonishing nerd
The singer and guitarist and the bass player as well
If I only had the guts I'd tell em: go to hell!
with my ashes, a singer of the homeland?
A handful of ashes with my own, ancestral home
Who will bring a handful of ashes from your ashes?
Of your
of Kings)
To the King of Kings
(Yes)
(And the Lord our God)
And the Lord our God
(That is wonderful)
He is wonderful
(We're the soprano singers
Come
butter just fine
Some things just don't go together
Some singers can't sing certain lines
Maybe it isn't your problem
But maybe it isn't all me
Maybe
People with cigarettes,
Singers with violets
Some who have no regrets
In her room
Men with no hair
Girls in their underwear
Boys who are
the midnight train goin' anywhere
A singer in a smokey room
The smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes
underground,
the singer and the sound.
I'm the voice and the word, the prayer.
Suffocated by air.
They told me fire would burn,
but it doesn't matter
to have me a band.
Til our drummer, Ronnie, got on down at the plant.
The singer got a girlfriend, you know how that goes.
So play something we can sing
song sings of us
I guess these singers know somehow
And my life they must discuss
But I left the pictures of you behind
Because I didn't want to dwell
my vision remains unclear
I'm listening though I can't hear So far away
So far that I don't know.
They say that folk singers wear their hearts
side of home
She's a small town singer
Winning fans with her smile
She sings of tears and heartaches
And he is always on her mind
She steals
a regular guy
Fifteen years old and God was James Joyce
Studied to become an opera-singer, but I always lost my voice
My best friend was my asthma-medicine
The one who could shake me with the tip of her finger
I'm shaken like a sissy in a hockey game
Ain't got the looks of a rock'n'roll singer
I'm all
lobotomy
For those who choose it
Corporations pumpin' all this money into pop
To keep the real singers far away from the top
So folks are never told what
Less of a singer, you are more
More of a prostitute
With aspirations for a life of sex and drug abuse
When did the music turn into a beauty
These are words to live by
Billy?s washing dishes and all the time he wishes he could find a better way
Yea and no season had rain for a country singer
a rock'n'roll singer
Maybe you'd love me a little more
But I'm trying my best
To stay who I am
For you
Even if I'm talking crazy
Even if I'm living crazy
band we played with on the bill that night, the singer Leslie, and the Marian lady who ran the bar donated some panties and dresses and make-up
I love you more than all the singers in a motown group
The way you watch me watching you out
On the front porch stoop
The radio loaded with
to death, well watch your blood flow.
Opera singers, do their thing,
Bessie slaps them on the back as they do sing.
And the pimps, well they all wear
Hey, do it now
Yeah, hey
Hey, Once I was a boogie singer playin' in a Rock and Roll Band
I never had no problems, yeah
Burnin' down one night
a believer and a singer of these songs
[Eligh]
Where can we be headed, without music in my system
I'd topple over unbalanced,
It's a part of me and my talents
than high
Flyer than fireflies
[Chorus]
We're keepin' it so cold
No singers are dead, don't have no soul
Nuff people out there are just so bold
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