Lyrics:
There are no lyrics to this track. It is intentionally blank, with each of the 71 seconds representing one of the years that the artist's father,
"John, Marsha, John, Marsha, John, Marsha"
John, oh, John, John
Let's hope for peace
Oh, John, let's hope for peace
John, oh, John
Let's hope for peace
Let's hope for peace
Let's hope
Do what John?
Come again do what?
Do what John?
Do what John?
D what?
Do what?
Do where John?
Do where John?
Why, what, wiv whom and when?
John brown set the tone he was a meteor in a guilty land
Abolitionist understand freedom to the despondent man
Grant said you're either one,
John and Yoko, let's hear it!
John Lennon, John Lennon, Yoko!
Let's hear them, let's get a bow, John Lennon, John, Yoko!
(Audience) John! John! John
When he was twelve years old, he wore a thirteen shoe
A-little bitty big John (little bitty big John)
A-little bitty big John
He could do more
When he was twelve years old, he wore a thirteen shoe
A-little bitty big John (little bitty big John)
A-little bitty big John
He could do more
John Kani
John Kani
John Kani
John Kani
John Bonisile Kani
Ngasiyini nangabe umhlaba
we New Brighton Gqeberha
awuka sikhuliseli wena
Abadala
Sidemen come out first
John Stockfish base guitar
Looks at the world through the eyes of Nashville,
The Riverboat and Charlie McCoy
He's just
Sidemen come out first
John Stockfish base guitar
Looks at the world through the eyes of Nashville,
The Riverboat and Charlie McCoy
He's just
Jesus" is a song of pure delight featuring John Barbee
The pure tenor quality of the voice of Harold Montgomery
Gives a special interpretation
No bed for Beatle John!
Beatle John Lennon lost his hospital bed yesterday to a patient
It happened at Queen Charlotte's Hospital, London
Where John
(Big John, big John)
Every mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive
He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five
Kinda broad
Saw a flea kick a tree
Fooba- Wooba, Fooba- Wooba
Saw a flea kick a tree
Fooba- Wooba John
Saw a flea kick a tree
In the middle of the sea
Hey,
Hockney
Ernst Johns Constable
David Bosch Bruegel
March Braque Whistler
We are the artists
We are the artists
Church De La Tour Millet
Modigliani Magritte
(Big John, big John)
Every mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive
He stood six-foot-six and weighed two-forty-five
Kinda broad
He can't run
He can't play
He does things in a different way
Little John, Little John of God
He tries to speak but no one hears
A little boy's
Mad John came down from Birmingham very hastily
And from Borstal he had ran
He made it down to Torquay
Good boy Mad John
Mad John holed up
In
Oh well then, I, John, he a might number
Way up in the middle of the air
Well I, John he saw a mighty number
Way in the middle of the air
Got
I'm promised to John promised to John
Can't you see that I'm promised to John
I saw her on the square and I fell in love right there
Though I was
Well who's that a writing? John The Revelator
Who's that a writing? John The Revelator
Who's that a writing? John The Revelator
A book of the seven
Now Buttermilk John played the steel guitar
It made a mournful sound
From the cotton fields of Arkansas
To the streets of that Nashville town
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