Lyrics:
not really by chance.
Don't cry young lovers, whatever you do,
Don't cry because I'm alone;
All of my memories are happy tonight,
I've had a love
I'm Flash, I'm the hero
I'm the bopper who's the poppa of the crew
I'm Flash, and I fight evil
And my spaceship flies the red, white and blue
I'm
in white
At the foot of my bed,
I said angel of mercy
I'm alive or am I dead?
My name is William James McPhee,
I was born in 1843.
Raised
a street on a chance that you'll meet
And you meet not really by chance
Don't cry young lovers whatever you do
Don't cry because I'm alone
All of my
I'll tell me Ma when I go home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone.
They'll pull my hair, they stole my comb,
Well that's alright till I go home.
of the beast
Smoking that dust at St. Anthony's Feast
All the wife beaters and all the tax cheaters
Sitting in the White House pulling their peters
Buy my
I'll tell me Ma when I go home,
The boys won't leave the girls alone.
They'll pull my hair, they stole my comb,
Well that's alright till I go home.
a friend I could use
Just look at my face
When you tell me goodbye
You'll see what I'm after
By the look in my eye
Just walk away and leave me alone
It's
Sky valley white, you read my mind
We exist alone when we're on our phones in the night
Running through your mind where you are now
I exist
a street on a chance that you'll meet
And you meet not really by chance
Don't cry young lovers whatever you do
Don't cry because I'm alone
All of my
shoulder, something is near
And I'm so scared when I'm alone, I'm so scared
Now it's inching closer, trouble is near
But nothing's there when I look,
the math, I'm coppin' Chanel bags
Talkin' Belle Harbour, cigars by Hermes (woo)
Know we ran the streets, eating cold bully beef (huh)
Now we
the rest
Say I'm making it on my own like a rock'n roll widow
Get my news from the Rolling Stone, wait by the telephone
Wonder if he's alone
Or is
Take a few M-16s to the hood
Pass 'em all out on the block, what's good?
I'ma put the Compton swap meet by the White House
Republican run up, get
And they said, "speak now"
And you say, "let's run away now
I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door
Oh baby, I didn't say my vow
So glad
I send the check for the lease every January
To 1100 Beckham Ridge Road
Have your corn knee-high by July
Where we hunt the bottom by the white
black or white
I am tired of this devil
I am tired of this stuff
I am tired of this business
Sew when the going gets rough
I ain't scared of your brother
start to chill
When I fill my pockets with a knot of dollar bills
Sippin' pints of ale out the window sill
When I get my fill I'm chilly chill
Now,
the rest
Say I'm making it on my own like a rock'n roll widow
Get my news from the Rolling Stone, wait by the telephone
Wonder if he's alone
Or is
Peter's, Rave it up'
Yeah, we're rock'n round' school
Broadhurst boys, we're on the prowl
Up all night like fucking owls
Fuck this shit, I'm off to town
Meet
Driven by a desperate hunger
To the dark of the neon light
The heart is a lonely hunter
When there's no sign of a love in sight
She hears him say,
on the ocean
Guided by just a lonely heart
Still alone, still at sea
Still there's no one to care for me
When there's no hand to hold my hand
Life is
crazy
I'm back by unpopular demand,
Least he still poppin' in Japan
Shoppin' in Milan, hoppin' out the van
Screams from the fans
"Yeezy, always knew
(in this white man's world)
In this white man's world, I ain't sayin' I'm innocent in all this
I'm just sayin (in this white man's world)
This song
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