Spain My love A beautful being's so sad and so strong You gave me a story you gave me a song When he played is guitar she would weep My love So one
that she turned down, yeah He was a sk8ter boi, she said, "See ya later boy" He wasn't good enough for her Now he's a superstar, slamin' on his guitar
Oh, Oh, Goodnight hush now baby, go to sleep I've read your bedtime story, kissed your cheek And just like Humpety Dumpety, yeah, the damage is ... deep
what you do and say Yeah, alright Well, I'ma tell you this story 'bout a nigga with glory Ya, I come from piss poor and now I live in six story houses
said his a scumbag don't you know. (Guitars) Although your trying not to listen. Avert your eyes and staring at the ground. She makes a suttle propostion. I'm sorry love
remind me of a West Side story Growin' up in Spanish Harlem She livin' a life just like a movie star Oh Maria, Maria She fell in love in East L.A. To
, I call that living It is a fountain, all the doors are open We got a problem with no solution But to love, love, love and to be loved So I've made
't know. I prefer E.L.O." I love their "Mr. Blue Skies" Almost my favorite is "Turn to Stone" And how 'bout "Telephone Line"? I love that E.L.O.
They say by mistake Here nobody takes me for a fool Just for a fake Later at the hotel bar The journalists are waiting I hurry back to my guitar While
how the story goes It's a dream I had playin' music in my band It's a dream I had to be happy with the woman I love Well if dreams came true and they
story about mackin Check it Times are changin' Talk about it More so each year, But the Early Mornin' Stoned Pimp is here. So let it rain, and let the guitar
time had come I had that old ramblin' itch Breaking little girls hearts I tore the world apart A guitar playin' son of a (guitar) Born to be bad That is the story
On Sunday after church there'd always be a picnic There'd be kinfolks callin' until dawn Me I'd play the guitar and my Uncle Merle would sing And grandpa
away. Lay that pistol down, babe, lay that pistol down, Pistol-packin? mama, lay that pistol down. Instrumental- (guitar, harmonica) Well the moral of this story
Some just go through hell But the Good Lord loves each and every one When your ragtime cowboy days are done Come up to steel guitar Heaven with me That's steel guitar
kinda hurt him bad Kinda made him feel pretty sad I couldn't say what went through his mind Anyway he left the world behind Everybody knows the same old story In love
is right Close your eyes and it's past Story of my life Story of my life Story of my life Story of my life Story of my life The story of my life
I'd like to tell you all a story About a friend of mine Who liked to drink good whiskey, oh Lord And have a real good time His woman, you know she left
