Intro whispering: Let's talk about money Get money Common Sense want the money Let's talk about money. Common Sense: I... be... the one they call
The streets of pleasure took you to top But every light was red and every sign said stop I felt so confined, just like glued to this spot, oh 'Cause we
Fear falls hard like rain again Washing over me You say nothing will ever change What do I believe? You fall deep inside again Nothing left to see Weakness
I've been a fool for love ever since I was a baby, just a rockin' in a cradle As a rule I was the kind that laid his feelings up front and on the table
I know a man who doesn't have many friends I know a place he lives where trouble never ends I know it's hard for him to read 'tween the lines And his
Rich world, poor world Everyday it?s gettin? modified Rich world, poor world Aren?t you glad you?re on the western side? Individual luxury just might
Hometown lady, leavin' for the city Bags in hand, she's boardin' the train Her last look through the window, I saw her eyes were as red as mine I waved
POOR OLE ME (Jerry Varrable) « © '68 Party Time Music » Well I talked to a friend of yours in town today He told me you were thinkin'
Poor Leno Where you'll be, I'll go Where you'll be, I'll know Where you'll be, I'll find you Poor Leno Where you'll be, I'll go Where you'll be, I'll
You walk in, half past nine Lookin like a queen Serving me with papers Calling me obscene Woman I've tried so hard Just to do my best They're gonna put
I pity the poor immigrant who wishes he would have stayed home Who uses all his power to do evil and in the end is always left so alone That man who with
Que sont mes amis devenus Que j'avais de si prA?s tenus Et tant aimA©s Ils ont A©tA© trop clairsemA©s Je crois le vent les a A'tA©s L'amour est morte
I am a poor wayfaring stranger Wandering through this world of woe And there?s no sickness, no toil or danger In that bright land to which I go I?m going
JESUSNeither you, Simon, nor the fifty thousand, Nor the Romans, nor the Jews, Nor Judas, nor the twelve Nor the priests, nor the scribes, Nor doomed
I pity the poor immigrant Who wishes he would've stayed home Who uses all his power to do evil But in the end is always left so alone That man whom with
Lord help the sinner man in this life lord help the sinner man in this life we all die together and we face the rising sun oh my lord lord help the poor
you sat at home the windows tinted black it hits you hard and you cried so long life turned & wandered never to come back again take what she gives you
I dwell in the north in the green country Far I'm here, far I'm here And I take to my rest at the end of day Whilst overhead pretty stars do play And
