We can get sad too . . .

So he started drinkin'
Took some things that messed up his thinkin'
He was sure sinkin'
When she came along.

 

He got cuffed on dirt roads
He got sued over no shows
She came and took all that ole load
Down off that blues man
And he said...

Hey, baby I love you too
Hey, baby I need you
Hey, baby I do get tired
Of this travellin band

 

I'm over 40 years old now
Nights would be cold now
If you hadn't stuck it out
With this blues man

 

My gandma's favorite song . . .

Whenever I chance to meet
some old friends on the street
They wonder how does a man get to be this way
I've always got a smiling face
Anytime and any place
And everytime they ask me why
I just smile and say

You've got to
Kiss an angel good morning
and let her know you think about her when you're gone
Kiss an angel good morning
and love her like the devil when you get back home

 

Got some hippie in me too . . .

It's bittersweet more sweet than bitter
Bitter than sweet
It's a bittersweet surrender

 

Best chic band . . .

Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you
And now it chills me to the bone
How do I get you alone
How do I get you alone

 

Till now I always got by on my own
I never really cared until I met you

 

We can't go on
Just running away
If we stay any longer
We will surely never get a way

 

So you wanna play with magic

 

 

But every song's like gold teeth, grey goose, trippin' in the bathroom
Blood stains, ball gowns, trashin' the hotel room,
We don't care, we're driving Cadillacs in our dreams.
But everybody's like Cristal, Maybach, diamonds on your timepiece.
Jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash.
We don't care, we aren't caught up in your love affair.

 

Double

 

And you just don't get it
You keep it copacetic
And you learn to accept it
You know it's so pathetic
And you don't

 

Yeah, don't care . . . Good tune . . .

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you

 

These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And all I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'

 

Original and best diva . . .

Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she's singin'
Whoo, baby, whoo, whoo
Just like the white winged dove
Sings a song
Sounds like she's singin'
Said, whoo, baby, whoo
Said, whoo

 

Seventeen . . . . .

 

Come on!!!

 

All you women who want a man of the street
Don't know which way you wanna turn
Just keep coming
And put your hand out to me
Cause I'm the one who's gonna make you burn
I'm gonna take you down
Down down down
So don't you fool around
I'm gonna pull it pull it
Pull the trigger
Shoot to thrill play to kill
Too many women too many pills, yeah
Shoot to thrill play to kill
I got my gun at the ready gonna fire at will

 

Party time!!!