Cutting The Breeze

I met this man
On the border of Spain
It was a sunny afternoon
I said "Can I talk to you?"
So I pulled my van to the side
He said "I like your smile"
I said "I like yours too"
But there was nothing going on

Just cutting the breeze
Nothing I need
Fighting to be free
With just enough time,
To have a smoke or two

Hey, hmmm yes

He had no idea
Of the songs I sing
He had no clue
Of the weight I'd been wearing
Told stories of the wars he fought
His love affairs and how he got caught
He's gonna build a house in Mexico now
Cause he's finally learnt to let it all go
That's why I'm here

Just cutting the breeze
Yes see I
Nothing we need
Fighting to be free
With just enough time,
To have a smoke or two

Yeah
Or three or four or whatever fits you
Ooh ooh ooh yeah

Driving along in my van
No thoughts to figure out, no master plan
No stressing and no demand and I like it that way
I had to get away, I had to, I had to

Feel the breeze
I had to feel it
Fighting to be free
Yes I was
There was nothing that we need
Nothing that we need
Except a smoke or two
Or maybe a beer and a few

Cutting the breeze
Nothing that we need, nothing we need
Fighting to be free, yes we were
With just enough time, to have a smoke or two

Похожие новости.

Реветастогне

Реве та стогне Дніпр широкий, Сердитий вітер завива, Додолу верби гне високі, Горами хвилю підійма. Приспів: Реве та стогне... Реве та стогне... Реве та стогне... Реве та... І блідий місяць на ту пору З-за хмари де-де виглядав, Неначе човен в Синім

Daddy Frank

(The Guitar Man) Daddy Frank played the guitar and the french harp, Sister played the ringing tambourine. Mama couldn't hear our pretty music, She read our lips and helped the family sing. That little band

Мама

Куплет первый: Детство беззаботное-улица, друзья, Бегали мы босые в чистые поля, На реке рыбачили, не боясь дождя, И девочек дурачили, гуляли до утра, И за это тоже, благодарю тебя. Припев: Мама, тебя дороже нет на целом свете, Мама,

Знаки Вопроса

Город мой, черно-серый смог, Ветер унесет мусор и песок. От тепла оживут слова, Цвет ночных домов, стены отпечатками перепачканы. Что чувствуешь ты, спросить не могу, Табу! Что же мы делаем, - знаки вопроса, Граффити чувства, - знаки

Мышонок

Когда беседы каторжан умолкнут, Ко мне бежит из-за угла мышонок, Он ждет немного сухарей и хлеба, Один среди своих друзей он белый. Мышонок слушает мои рассказы, А он меня не перебил ни разу, Мы с дуралеем