in the tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G D's came locked my ass up like a savage Then came Doobie in the baby carriage Imagine how it felt summer day pretty blue skies
Bowlin' ball nuts and a gat But not enough time for me to react Cheddar in my possesion Livin' in an expedition Cheefin' to stop my stressin' On the low
wont let you take this time maybe there's a reason to have these thoughts change even more with the season lay low while the stars are fading be low
the corner Though it's cold here inside And the fire's burning low There's an Indian summer coming I know The snow owl sings her mournful song The grey skies
skies die Welcome the moment That we feel lost and found (?) Travel the skies Never be homesick Quietly recall Once we were monsters Travel the skies
rise, As the New City sinks with despise Their presence is starting to show The time has come, come to be known Their reflexes faster than light They move to the skies
you came and lit a spark Burnin' desire, house on fire Never, no never, never I'm beginning to see what you talking 'bout I never cared much for moonlit skies
or low There is a lot I've got to learn You start so fast, you're never last Thinking the time was mine to burn You never know, you're high or low There
Well, it's a marvelous night for a Moondance With the stars up above in your eyes A fantabulous night to make romance 'Neath the cover of October skies
Open your eyes Look up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy Because I'm easy come, easy go A little high, little low Anyway the
sparrows Strafing squadrons cause havoc and terror Winged Assassins - Seek their prey Camouflage colours impair observation Insignia painted depicting its nation Defying detection at low
Strafing squadrons cause havoc and terror Winged Assassins - Seek their prey Camouflage colours impair observation Insignia painted depicting its nation Defying detection at low
up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy,I need no sympathy Because I'm easy come,easy go, A little high,little low, Anyway the wind blows,doesn
ticket, I've gotta collection in the glovebox They make great souvenirs cause they weigh less than rocks Man you better slow your roll, let the numbers get low
down he is the one that keeps you here he is the thorn in your side he is the romance in your life your eyes look like the blue skies that turn to gray
earth. Onward and on, this strange-wrought bird, onwards and over the black coffee earth, Onward and on, this laughing train to the ends of its low, low
