never wrote a song for Linda and she was right there all alone loved him back to life when his luck ran low but he never wrote a Linda song he nearly
(By Thomas A.Dorsey) Have I given anything today? Have I helped some needed soul on the way? From the dawn till setting sun, have I wounded anyone?
On an evening in Roma Do they take 'em for espresso Yeah, I guess so On each lover's arm a girl I wish I knew On an evening in Roma Though there's grining
Red old eyes, now where you from You catch me every day Colours hide not even song It's all been washed away Sun stop going down Come out again Stop
Some enchanted evening You may see a stranger, you may see a stranger Across a crowded room And somehow you know, You know even then That somewhere you
Hey man Evening on the ground And there is no one else around So you will Blame me Blame me for the rocks and baby bones And broken lock on our garden
Hey man Evening on the ground And there is no one else around So you will Blame me Blame me for the rocks and baby bones And broken lock on our
And the devil is picking his tune When daddy's quit staying And the mommas quit praying Even the children quit fight'n God must be crying Cause even
could see the tears were running down her face She said you go to work, you pay the bills I stay at home and I make the meals But you don?t even know
Oh the ship I'm on Time is what I ride Forty winds, the captain and the tide Oh a sailor boy Stole me from my home And this sea of joy Is the only life
Evening is a little boy With dark wind ruffled hair Who skips the stars Like stones across the darkening part of hail
solo here This song is just six words long This song is just six words long This song is just six words long This song is just six words long This song
a solo here This song's just six words long This song's just six words long This song's just six words long This song's just six words long This song
is pickin' his tune When our daddy's quit stayin' And our momma's quit prayin' Even the children quit tryin' God must be crying 'Cause even the skies
In the blue of evening When you appear close to me, dear one There in that dusk we'll share a dream reverie In the blue of evening While crickets call
A bittersweet taste of that Forbidden Fruit Entice of Evil -a Serpent in every bosom We lay naked in the wind, in shame & fear exiled into a solitary
[A poem by P.B. Shelley (1792-1822)] Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years, Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe Are brackish with the salt of human
Darkness devours me again the whirling, black depth of abyssmal night And he stands before me like a dreadful prophet like some ancient Mysteriarch O