| Random Lyrics |
| The Boxer (Concert In Central Park Version) I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told, I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises. All lies and jests, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest. When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy in the company of strangers in the quiet of the railway station, running scared. Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters where the ragged people go, looking for the places only they would know. Lie la lie... Asking only workman's wages, I come looking for a job but I get no offers, just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue. I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome I took some comfort there, lie la lie lie. Now the years are rolling by me, they are rocking evenly. I am older than I once was but younger than I'll be, that's not unusual. No, it isn't strange, after changes upon changes we are more or less the same, after changes we are more or less the same. Lie la lie... Then I'm laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone, going home where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me, leading me, going home. In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame, "I am leaving, I am leaving," but the fighter still remains. Lie la lie... Red Rubber Ball I should have known you'd bid me farewell. There's a lesson to be learned from this and I've learned it very well. Now I know you're not the only starfish in the sea, if I never hear your name again, it's all the same to me. And I think it's gonna be all right, yeah, the worst is over now, the morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball. You never care for secrets I confide, to you, I'm just an ornament, something for your pride. Always running, never caring, that's the life you live, stolen minutes of your time were all you had to give. And I think it's gonna be all right, yeah, the worst is over now, the morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball. The story's in the past with nothing to recall, I've got my life to live, and I don't need you at all. The roller coaster ride we took is nearly at an end, I bought my tickets with my tears, that's all I'm gonna spend. And I think it's gonna be all right, yeah, the worst is over now, the morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball. And I think it's gonna be all right, yeah, the worst is over now, the morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball. It's bouncing and it's shining like a red rubber ball. A Church Is Burning A church is burning, the flames rise higher. Like hands that are praying, they grow in the sky. Like hands that are praying, the fire ascends. You can burn down my churches but I shall be free. Three hundred men through the back roads did creep, torches in their hands while the village lies asleep. Down to the church where, just hours before, Voices were singing, and hands were meeting, and saying, "I won't be a slave anymore." A church is burning, the flames rise higher. Like hands that are praying, they grow in the sky. Like hands that are praying, the fire ascends. You can burn down my churches but I shall be free. Three hundred men, their hands lit the spark and they faded in the night, they vanished in the dark. And in the cold light of morning, there was nothing that remained but the ashes of a battle and a can of kerosene. A church is burning, the flames rise higher. Like hands that are praying, they grow in the sky. Like hands that are praying, the fire ascends. You can burn down my churches but I shall be free. A church is more than just timber and stone and freedom is a dark road when you're walking it alone. But the future is now, and it's time to take a stand so the lost bells of freedom can ring out in my land. A church is burning, the flames rise higher. Like hands that are praying, they grow in the sky. Like hands that are praying, the fire ascends. You can burn down my churches but I shall be free. You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies You don't know that you love me. You don't know, but I know that you do. You may think you're above me, yeah, what you think isn't always true. Don't try to debate me. You should know that I'm womanly wise, still you're trying to manipulate me. You don't know where your interest lies, no, you don't know where your interest lies. You don't begin to comprehend, you're just a game that I like to play. You may think that my friend's all right but I won't let friendship get in my way. No, I won't let friendship get in my way. Indications indicate running the same riff will turn you around. Obviously, you're going to blow it but you don't know it. You don't know that you love me. You don't know, but I know that you do. You may think you're above me, yeah, what you think isn't always true. And you don't know where your interest lies, you don't know where your interest lies. Comfort And Joy (Traditional) God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day. To save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh, tidings of comfort and joy. God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day. To save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh, tidings of comfort and joy. God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay. Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day. To save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray. Oh, tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy, oh, tidings of comfort and joy. Star Carol (Alfred Burt / Wihla Hutson) Long years ago on a deep winter night, high in the heavens, a star shone bright. While in the manger, a wee baby lay sweetly asleep on a bed of hay. Jesus our Lord was that baby so small, laid down to sleep in a humble stall. Then came the star and it stood overhead shedding its light round His little head. Dear baby Jesus, how tiny Thou art, I'll make a place for Thee in my heart. And when the stars in the heavens I see, ever and always I think of Thee. Hey Schoolgirl (Simon/Garfunkel) / Black Slacks (Bennett/Denton) Oo-bop-a-loo-cha-bop, you're mine. Woo-bop-a-loo-cha-bop, you're mine. Hey schoolgirl in the second row, teacher's looking over so I gotta whisper way down low. I say, woo-bop-a-loo-cha-bop, let's meet after school at three. Hey, baby, there's one thing more, school is over at half past four. Maybe when we're older, then we can date, ooo, let's wait. Black slacks, black slacks, black slacks, black slacks, black slacks Take it cool, daddy-o, when I put 'em on, I'm a-raring to go. That Silver Haired Daddy Of Mine (Long/Autry) In a vine-covered shack in the mountains, bravely fighting the battle of time is a dear one who's weathered my sorrows, tis that silver-haired daddy of mine. If I could recall all the heartaches, dear old Daddy, I've caused you to bear, if I could erase those lines from your face and bring back the gold to your hair. If God would but grant me the power just to turn back the pages of time, I'd give all I own if I could but atone to that silver-haired daddy of mine. Oh, I know it's too late, dear old Daddy to repay all those sorrows and cares, though dear Mother is waiting in heaven just to comfort and solace you there. If I could recall all the heartaches, dear old Daddy, I've caused you to bear, if I could erase those lines from your face and bring back the gold to your hair, if God would but grant me the power just to turn back the pages of time, I'd give all I own if I could but atone to that silver-haired daddy of mine. I'd give all I own if I could but atone to that silver-haired daddy of mine. My Little Town In my little town, I grew up believing God keeps His eye on us all. And He used to lean upon me as I pledged allegiance to the wall, Lord I recall my little town. Coming home after school, flying my bike past the gates of the factories. My mom doing the laundry, hanging our shirts in the dirty breeze. And after it rains, there's a rainbow and all of the colors are black. It's not that the colors aren't there it's just imagination they lack. Everything's the same back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. In my little town, I never meant nothing, I was just my father's son. Saving my money, dreaming of glory, twitching like a finger on the trigger of a gun. Leaving nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town. |