Lyrics:
Like the Grateful Dead, huh
(Huh? Ha)
Call me Kodak, I'm a suburban dude (I am)
They call you- huh? They call you- what?
We never heard of you, huh,
burned sage and stories spin our heads
Just a band of ageless gypsies following the Grateful Dead
And I'm waiting for a miracle A moment sweet and rare I
boys went anywhere
Yeah, none of those boys went anywhere
And I've been with a guy who liked The Grateful Dead
And I've been with a guy who smokes grass
I still wear that Grateful Dead shirt
The one ya gave me back when you and me were
I don't know if you remember
But I got that ink we'd have got
slipped away
Baby you know
We're going too slow
Why don't we slip away
Nodding his head
Like the Grateful Dead
He made me slip away
He said his name was
up
With the mop stick getting cleaned up
cnd I be dropping hits just like the Grateful Dead
Or like I'm Johnny Depp with his wife in bed
I got a pocket
that money,
I make it 4 ways
Bout that swag, bout that pay
Grateful dead, touch of grey
Stack them chips, Frito lays
Super freak, just like Rick James
the backbeat of yer heart
I dyed all my hair jet black
Borrowed a Misfits shirt & never gave it back
And I learned to love the Grateful Dead
And I laid with you
La vie en rose but seeing pink till it's red
become a corpse in your arms listening to the Grateful Dead
I'd usher in the change of season with you
I just miss the happiness behind everything
Oh well, guess you gotta go
Stay out of my head
You had me hypnotized
I hope you're great Grateful Dead
You're boasting about your,
Ability to converse in a situation,
Without words.
Listening to the grateful dead,
Eating Humus without bread,
No one saw when
GRATEFUL... (GRATEFUL)
(VAMP):
I SHOULD'VE BEEN DEAD... (GRATEFUL)
SIX FEET UNDER... (GRATEFUL)
NO LOVE (GRATEFUL)
NO HEART (GRATEFUL)
BUT GOD SAID NO... (GOD
and cathead biscuits
We'd watch Porter and Dolly then throw on the Grateful Dead
Born and raised on acid country
Eating turnip greens and a handful of nebutals
and the Airplane did fly
Oh, Ravi Shankar's music made me cry
The Who exploded into fire and light
Hugh Masekela's music was black as night
The Grateful Dead
home plate tickets to see the Mets
Like everybody, she's in over her head
Dreads Feds, Grateful Dead, and doesn't take meds
She's a Gemini-Capricorn
for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead
Darlin', give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen
Give
for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead
Darlin', give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen
Give
what i´ll lick
Your hippy dick, your hippy dick
Your hip hip hip hip hip hip hippy dick
I think I could learn
To stand the grateful dead
It sure
and pretty girls with washboards ...
Lakota Sioux Medicine songs sung by Rocky Mountain white kids
Thirty different bands playing from the Grateful Dead Book
killing me, it's killing me
Everythung pisses me off, from your cue ball head to the grateful dead
And the rap star pisses me off, they bitch and moan.
not for lack of bread
Like the Grateful Dead, darling
Gimme a head with hair
Long, beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen waxen
at home there was sadly nothing on
my childhood had to end,
the Sound of Music passed me by
just like the Grateful Dead.
From Julie Andrews
likes me
I guess its possible
I nag too much
And I get inside his head
He does make me laugh in his own special way
(hee hee) he likes the grateful Dead
for lack of bread, like the Grateful Dead
Darlin', give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen
Give
.png/300px-Grateful_Dead_(1970).png "Grateful Dead")
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