Come on my friends let's make for the hills. They say there's gold and I'm looking for thrills. You can get your hands on whatever we find. 'Cause I'm only coming along for the ride.
Hey Jean, this is Henry McClean. And I've finished my beautiful flying machine. And I'm ringing to say. That I'm leaving and maybe. You'd like to fly with me.
You say the hill's too steep to climb,. Chiding!. You say you'd like to see me try,. Climbing!. You pick the place and I'll choose the time. And I'll climb.
Lets go. so so you think you can tell. heaven from hell. blue skies from pain. can you tell a green field. from a cold steel rail. a smile from a vail.