made today I tried to find a place to hide to pass a time away I knew I couldn't stand to see someone we once knew All alone my first day without you [ piano
, damn fools, Stak hard on ya too We ain't gone play with this shit, same label and shit Like brothers, different mothers, but we twins in this shit Like piano
[Young Chris talking] Where that pian sat at (uh) Young Gannas (chea) What up niggas; Niggas got till January to get they shit together; You hear that
innocence it was her fire For she believed that purity Was all that was required To live a better way But there was for us No place to hide For that
she can't let go, she won't shut up. (Like someone put a gun to his face?) She almost thought she had a place to hide her face, Like she thinks they
Lord. A faded baptist hymnal took it's place above the keys We'd take turns sitting by him he'd nod we'd turn the page Well the old piano's silent
can hear it beat I am scared of shadows in the night When you are not there by my side Sick of nightmares in my sleep When there is no place I can hide
those days and I miss those ways When I got lost in fantasies In a cartoon land of mysteries In a place you won't grow old In a place you won't feel
. Stiffly walking words, They seem to hang here You place each Phrase like puzzle pieces: Planned, Precise, and Perfect You play me like a piano or
living if this is living without you [ piano ] Seems I'm always in your way to appoint you I have tried That just doesn't seem to be a place big enough for me to hide
and you were gone without a sound. (run) [chorus] It's going, going place and trace of laughter remain. The same. Ooh This critical devotion. Slow it down traces remain, Of pian
your words like weapons Here we go, battlestations I never have the guts to let you look inside I don't think you'd appreciate the things that I hide
my knees And roll my stockings down And all that jazz Start the car I know a whoopee spot Where the gin is cold But the piano's hot It's just a noisy
Frank zappa (guitar, synclavier) Steve vai (guitar) Ray white (guitar, vocals) Tommy mars (keyboards) Chuck wild (piano) Arthur barrow (bass) Scott thunes
words like weapons Here we go - battlestations I never have the guts to let you look inside I don't think you'd appreciate the things that I hide Chorus
rafters with carefree young people, many of whom we have already encountered at the studio and at Schwab's. Several of the GUESTS cluster around the piano
I can hear it beat. I'm scared of shadows in the night, When you're not there by my side. Sick of nightmares in my sleep - There's no place I can hide
Signor Piangi . . . if you please . . . (REYER thumps the piano keys, then leaves the piano, and attempts to attract attention using signals. Al the height of the mayhem, the piano
