Yo, I can't sing but I feel like singing I wanna fuckin' sing 'Cuz I'm happy, yeah, I'm happy I got my baby back, yo, check it out Somedays I sit staring
Ha, ha, who, who Thought you?d get the money too Greedy motherfuckers Try to have the cake and eat it too Son of a gun Son of a gun You're such a romantic
If you will think now, then you will see How you can change things, people are waiting Turning away, tired of killing Hey now, will you go away? We're
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Jack Front nipping at your nose Yuletide carols being sung by a choir And folks dressed up like Eskimos Everybody
Want you to know, I'm a man Say the words and I'll say it again Want you to know, I'm a man you can depend upon That's all, all I am Wanted to show,
You look different every time You come from the foam crested brine It's your skin shining softly in the moonlight Partly fish, partly porpoise, partly
Heard every word that was said that night When the light of the world put the world to right Well here's to the boys back in 628 Where an ear to the
The first chord from the vein of the ore There it all begins The blacksmiths forge will resolve The metal's nature The riddle of steel, hiding the key
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire Jack Frost nipping at your nose Yuletide carols being sung by a choir And folks dressed up like Eskimos Everybody
People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one And we've just begun, I think I'm gonna have a son He will be like you and me as free as a dove Conceived in
Tune me in to the wild side of life I'm an innocent young child sharp as a knife Take me to the garretts where the artists have died Show me the courtrooms
We hit the ace, ace and we love giving chase Wicked clown got more than some pie for your face With a drip, drip, drip it's blood on the strip Three disassembled
On the hills of fire, the darkest hour I was dreaming of my true love's pyre Who will bring a light to stoke the fire? Fear not for you're still breathing
Bad news, bad news, come to me where I sleep Turn, turn, turn again Say, one of your friends is in trouble deep Turn, turn, to the rain and the wind
The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top Snow is softly fallin' The air is still in the silence of my room I hear your voice softly callin' If I could
I see the shadows as they come to welcome the night Treading the time when I know I must turn out the light Here in the darkness I lie down to hurt once
Grateful for each hand we hold Gathered round this table. From far and near we travel home, Blessed that we are able. Grateful for this sheltered place