Letter From Omaha
Well I can't sleep with all these hand-me-downs
Battered up chests and faded dreams
Every new life seems to spin away
Like sand escaping through the seams
Send me a letter from Omaha
Said a needle or thread could mend the tears
But tonight the cotton fields, they
Smell like calico
And the color of your hair
Stars stand against the lonely blue
Like pin-pricks made by midnight hands
They tried to sew you a pure white dress
Got tied up in the misdeeds and demands
Cotton burned all brown and wasted
Like an innocence fell to disrepair
But tonight the ashes, they
Smell like calico
And the color of your hair
If I could have my one and only wish
I'd sew your hair all to the lining of my shirt
I'd stand in the noon day clean and golden
Not the color of the dry land dirt
Send me a letter from Omaha
Said a needle or thread could mend the tears
But tonight the sugarcane, it
Smells like calico
And the color of your hair
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Случай
Мне в ресторане вечером вчера Сказали с юморком и с этикетом, Мол киснет водка, выдохлась икра И что у них учёный по ракетам. И, многих помня с водкой пополам, Не разобрав, что плещется в
Some Kind Of Wonderful
All you have to do is touch my hand And show me you understand And that something happens to me That some kind of wonderful Everytime our little world seems blue I just have to
Put Your Head On My Shoulder
Hold me in your arms, baby Squeeze me oh so tight Show me that you love me too. Put your lips next to mine, dear Won't you kiss me once, baby Just a kiss good-night Maybe
Across The World
Hey Jim, its like these boyz wanna make music for their block, you know, for their hood, their city. I'm tryin to make music for the world you feel me right,
Над Колискою
Спи, мій малесенький, спи, мій синок... Я розкажу тобі безліч казок! Нащо ж ти віченьки знову розкрив?! Спи, моя пташко, то вітер завив. Стогне і виє уже він давно, Б’ється і стука в наше вікно... Геть,