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There are love songs And then there's sad songs There are songs being sung every day But never has there been such a song Sung to you on Christmas
down like Ricky Williams None in my melon everyday we was yelling I got weed I got shrooms I green I got blue I got drugs I got money baby tell me where
{And Elizabeth Cotton is a writer of very fine songs Such as, 'Freight Train' and 'Oh Babe, It Ain't No Lie' And she wanted this song to be sung by
{And Elizabeth Cotton is a writer of very fine songs Such as, 'Freight Train' and 'Oh Babe, It Ain't No Lie' And she wanted this song to be sung by
Blues gettin sung, nuggets of wisdom I got da 2 for da one Brotha speak softly and carry a gun Nothin new under the sun Play with the kid but the kid not
she want sit on I spot like a glizzy with the prints everything I’m rocking is inspired by a prince song Fresh out the wrapper Ain’t a stain or lent
through which I see the light It's just another awful pretty song that I'll write That might make even Hank Williams cry, or maybe he'd smile...for a while.
Hey guys, let's do one of those no melody songs That'll be so cool Julian's angry I'm the, uh, I can't even speak bro, honestly I don't even, I
to say? Her eyes china blue saucers she's born that way She tastes of apple strudel you can tell she does With arms that hold sweet William to her
Chris And I'm here in my blue shirt And I'm singing my song I got my blue shirt on and I'm singing my song (got my blue shirt on) I got my blue shirt
Hear these words sung by a bard North and the South they named the land Listen close, you'll understand This story to tell where we stand Did you
had sung I know someday I'll have to put this tune to rest But I won't ever forget you, my first love I remember that day, December blues It was
Time for rum and some pirate songs Oh captain my captain! Whitman turning in his grave As he hear this Crazy mad rhymes slap Last captain William's
in a box, import it to Pier one Player don't be mad at the song she sung But it's true- she bangs, she calls me William Hung She likes to call my third
of silence for songs that sung Because where they come from is where we come from Fallen angels sippin' liquor From long rivers poured by those who still
inside a bar, listening to songs that were being sung Till it's time for the group to have their rest Passing through the entrance, you came into the bar
inside a bar, listening to songs that were being sung Till it's time for the group to have their rest Passing through the entrance, you came into the bar
woman watching over her dying mother Who has been struck by the bullet Of famine the daughter tells Me about the journey to Mogadishu a 200-mile trek
passing through Passing through... Now this day is nearly done and my song is almost sung and pretty soon this scene will fade from our view If we never
Oh, I can tell by the way that she walks She's a big city girl And I can tell by the way that she talks She might even save the world Well, she got
THE EYES OF A MADMAN By: Ken David The eyes of a madman, are just simple webs of hazel set-in shades of blue They're not so sophisticated, topsy
Drive right there by the Sears Tower ya know She said to me Ive been doin you wrong Its just more of the same old song Now Im lookin for someone new Now
suffering Smiling like a clown until the show has come to an end What is left for encore Is the same old dead boy's song Sung in silence All that great
signed by Ellen off of YouTube Does your contract say you have To look like her, too? We all know your music, but let me just say Tell me why, Charlie Why
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