Silver Eagle
Well, he rides into town on the back of a big silver eagle
Strapped to his shoulders are the burden of staying on top
And the lines in his face tell the story of an uphill flight
You can tell how he feels day by day by the songs that he writes
He's loved by millions, somehow he's their prisoner as well
As he rides down the road in his ten wheel [Incomprehensible]
Now he lives for the day that the eagle will carry him home
'Cause the glamor is over nearly all of his seeds have been flown
Letting go silver eagle, there must be a better way of life
For this great American poet who's singing his songs about
The everyday working man's life
One night on the road just south of the Idaho line
We were smoking some contracts and attempting to alter our minds
Then just before daylight Hag pushed back his head and he said
"I wouldn't put in too much emphasis on being a star
Can we do a little bit of living instead"
Letting go silver eagle, there must be a better way of life
For this great American poet who's singing his songs about
The everyday working man's life
Letting go silver eagle, there must be a better way of life
This great American poet who's singing his songs about
Похожие новости.
Я Заблукав
Я заблукав в собі шукаючи любов. Вигадував тебе, малюючи в думках. Я вірив, що знайду тебе, але коли знайшов, То зрозумів, крім тебе я найшов ще страх. Приспів: Тебе не можу і не хочу загубити, Ту
Who Do You Love
(Who do you love?) Say who do you love And say if you really care. (Who do you love?) Say who do you love And say if you really care. Look into my eyes And let me
In Your Eyes
Some people fall in love in rooms that are so dark, They can't see where they are going, and they lose their hearts, But when I saw your face, it was a
Forte
Sono solo disperato Sono niente Senza te non vivo pi? Hai deciso all'improvviso Come un lampo Ed io son caduto gi? Che grande dolore Che gran dispiacere amarti Come noi non c'? nessuno Mi dicevi Non ci lasceremo mai Io sognavo
Я Намалюю
Я намалюю... (3) Я малював сьогодні воду, вітри холодні, Між запахом лісним дочекав весни. Дощ намочив картину, що малював незримо, Десь при шляхах порожніх сліпий художник. Пера з небес снігами, перелистував вітрами Будні і вихідні, мої
