Yeah For the two thousand (Two thousand) Black Elvis (Black Elvis) We get raw with this (Hand me my guitar) Tour bus packed (Tour bus packed) Black
than just standing around By tomorrow morning I'll be leaving town I'll go anyplace but I ain't going down A cruiser pulled us over Right across the line Booked
, all the loot I had Good guitar, though, called it a pluckit Anyway, spent me dough And I couldn't let it all go to waste, you know So I took the book, guitar
Chart #60 Aug 3, 1959 R&B Chart #13 Reissued as King #5452 Pop Chart #60 Jan 23, 1961 With Ernie Hayes-piano, Mickey Baker-guitar Emile Russell-drums,
and he gave me his autograph reeling in my disbelief, i know that it was just a dream all the covers that i see are different from the books i read
cool off 'cause something isn't right What do you think would happen If I sat outside your door? Howled like a dog and played guitar And begged you
and you don't do it for the man, men never notice you just do it for yourself you're the f-cking coldest intelligent too ooh you're my sweetheart I've always liked my women book
I'm sitting in my bedroom overlooking Findhorn Bay Cluny Hill ion the distance summer on the way Blue skies and sailing boats like a picture in a book
I'm sitting in my bedroom Overlooking Findhorn Bay Cluny Hill in the distance Summer on the way Blue skies and sailing boats Like a picture in a book
Texas, everything in between. And her name would be different from place to place, And her heart might get heavy sometimes. With a worn prayer book in her guitar
the end In my hour of darkness, in my time of need Oh Lord, grant me vision, oh Lord, grant me speed Another young man safely strummed his silver string guitar
Why ya gotta go And sell your soul? Why ya gotta talk About Engine Joe Like he's some guy In a fairy tale book? Everybody knows That he just cooks Baked
Now your vision's gone But your weakness leaves me strong You know it leaves me strong Words, music, rhythm guitar (1)- Jane Bass - Dave Bronze Guitar - Alan Christie Rhythm guitar
can tell by your glare. I wouldn't touch you on a dare. Seven months to June and even then, so what? My mouth is open, my book is shut. My air guitar
the wrong hand into the wrong glove Are you leaving, dear? Are you leaving, dear? Are you leaving, dear? Are you leaving, dear? So you start reading all her books
As I walk these narrow streets Where a million passin feet have trod before me With my guitar in my hand Suddenly I realize nobody knows me Where yesterday
A style radio tuned To all the stations If they cheats they a.m The books they f.m My hook and my look Make em' crazy hectic My image is like My guitar
and these tears may dim my sight But before I die there's a dirty book I'm gonna write All about you babe... [ guitar ] Yeah the Grandville greyhound