Today's the fourth of july Another june has gone by And when they light up our town I just think What a waste of gunpowder and sky I'm certain that I
him he was raking leaves In his tiny yard. Of course I know that We've only got ten years, or twenty, left But to be honest I'm happy with whatever time
This is for the one who was false Who taught me about building walls One who could always turn it around To leave me here on shaky ground This is for
I should be knocking on the door of the pearly gates Why keep a poor man alive in a job he hates I've heard that good things will come to he who waits
've heard everything As hopeless as it seems I wouldn't worry You'll get your chance to tell Your side of the story And, raising your right hand, Whatever
Nothing was saving our day There was nothing to say, But you said something anyway Claiming I stepped out of line Which forced you to leave me, As if
Fifty years after the fair The picture I have is so clear Underneath the clouds in the air Rose the tyrlon and the perisphere And that for me was the
Well, I guess that this is now the end Who'd have thought My old friend We signed the papers and we capped the pen But I remember you from way back when
Whatever happened to Christmas? It's gone and left no traces Whatever happened to the faces Or the glow Whatever happened to Christmas To Christmas way
Whatever happened to Christmas? It's gone and left no traces, Whatever happened to the faces or the glow. Whatever happened to Christmas, to Christmas
Tulkojums: Mann, Aimee. Neatkarīgi noticis ar Ziemassvētku.
Today's the fourth of July another June has gone by and when they light up our town I just think what a waste of gunpowder and sky I'm certain that I
It's so hard not to blame you it's hard not to put all the blame on you 'cause you knew from the start there was one little part you would not let through
I know there's a word for this I know there's a word for the way I'm feeling I know there's a word for this I know it, and it's on the tip of my tongue
We made it down to New York with everything intact but as for getting back - it was Boo who made the joke, they don't give you any hope but they'll give
met him he was raking leaves in his tiny yard. Of course I know that we've only got ten years, or twenty, left but to be honest I'm happy with whatever
This is for the one who was false who taught me about building walls one who could always turn it around to leave me here on shaky ground this is for
I should be knocking on the door of the pearly gates why keep a poor man alive in a job he hates I've heard that good things will come to he who waits
