I don't drink coffee, I take tea, my dear. I like my toast done on one side. And you can hear it in my accent when I talk. I'm an Englishman in New York.
Young teacher the subject. Of schoolgirl fantasy. She wants him so badly. Knows what she wants to be. Inside her there's longing. This girl's an open page.
I've called you so many times today. And I guess it's all true what your girl-friends say. That you don't ever want to see me again. And your brother's gonna kill me and he's six feet ten.
Aye, the footmen are frantic in their indignation,. You see, "The Queen's took a taxi herself to the station!". Where the porters, surprised by her lack of Royal baggage,.
Finding the world in the smallness of a grain of sand. and holding infinities in the palm of your hand. and heaven's realms in the seedlings of this tiny flower.
There's a moon over Bourbon Street tonight. I see faces as they pass beneath the pale lamplight. I've no choice but to follow that call. The bright lights, the people, and the moon and all.
There were rooms of forgiveness. In the house that we share. But the space has been emptied. Of whatever was there. There were cupboards of patience. There were shelfloads of care.
When August winds are turning,. The fishing boats set out upon the sea,. I watch 'til they sail out of sight,. The winter follows soon,. I watch them drawn into the night,.
Early one morning. with time to kill. i borrowed jebb's rifle. and sat on a hill. i saw a lone rider. crossing the plain. i drew a bead on him. to practice my aim.
Early one morning with time to kill. I borrowed Jebb's rifle and sat on a hill. I saw a lone rider crossing the plain. I drew a bead on him to practice my aim.
If blood will flow. when flesh and steel are one. drying in the colour. of the evening sun. tomorrow's rain. will wash the stains away. but something in our minds.
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Roxanne. You don't have to put on the red light. Walk the streets for money. You don't care if it's wrong or if it's right. . Roxanne. You don't have to wear that dress tonight.
I don't take coffee, I take tea, my dear. I like my toast done on one side. And you can hear it in my accent when I talk. I'm an Englishman in New York.
Around my way. Around my way. All the corners filled with sorrow. All the streets are filled with pain. Around my way. Around my way. Around my way. All the corners filled with sorrow.
Whenever I say your name, whenever I call to mind your face. Whatever bread's in my mouth, whatever the sweetest wine that I taste. Whenever your memory feeds my soul, whatever got broken becomes whole.
Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming. From tender stem hath sprung!. Of Jesse's lineage coming. As men of old have sung. . It came a flow'ret bright. Amid the cold of winter.
Just a castaway. Island lost at sea. Another lonely day. No one here but me, oh. More loneliness. Than any man could bear. Rescue me before I fall into despair.
In the streets around here there was nobody tougher than me,. I was quick with me fists and fast with me footwork as you can plainly see,. But while fighting was useful for getting your way,.