St. Apollonia

All these saints that I move without
I lose without in vain
All these saints, they move without
They moved without again
Well, all these places will lose without
They lose without a name

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I want to be real Not some conscience to myself The way you worship, never ending Some idol who’s pretending to be true How you put upon yourself A man who never seems To answer to

Written by Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge Hey, fairweather friend, You know you can bend me I don’t wanna break Hey, lend me a hand Something I can lean on til I’m strong enough to Make it... cause

The days of our age are threescore years and ten, And though men be so strong that they come, To fourscore years, yet is their strength then, But labour and sorrow, so soon

All we've ever owed each other for the time we spent together Was the right to know it's over when it's gone What it wasn't doesn't matter and it still don't feel