Raised On Rock
I was born in a hurricane
Nothing to lose and everything to gain
Ran before I walked
Reaching for the top
Out of control just like a runaway train
I never walked on the narrow path
I always wanted what I didn't have
All was not enough
Riding lady luck
Driving in the fast lane and just stepped on the gas
Cause I was raised on rock
My dad was howling but my heart was a rolling stone
Yeah I was raised on rock
My mama said I had a devil to scratch my soul
And I was raised on rock
Shoot me up baby make me high
And hit the jackpot in the heat of the night
Wanna kiss your lips
Wanna move your hips
See my desire in your laser-beam eyes
You shake me up got me spinning 'round
You know what's going up must come down
Tomorrow I'll be gone
A million miles from home
The only road I know leads out of town
Cause I was raised on rock
My dad was howling but my heart was a rolling stone
Yeah I was raised on rock
My mama said I had a devil to scratch my soul
And I was raised on rock
Growing up with the guitar men
Growing up way too fast
Follow the sound of a rock'n'roll band
This call will always last
Cause I was raised on rock
Похожие новости.
Ненавижу
Был обычный день Точно не весна Я помню как теперь Что ты была одна И разносила письма А я попал в зависимость Пепел сигареты И одинокий парк 101 совет как сделать первый шаг Кусаю ногти до крови А сам стесняюсь
This Is Gonna Take All Night
Well I've been thinking 'bout it an' its been too long So put them dirty dishes down and leave that laundry alone Come on Take me by the hand and follow me to
Свеча На Ветру
Муз: Д.Ковков Сл. О.Елькина Ты ветер, ты где-то, В облаках без меня летаешь. Не вспомнишь, не вздрогнешь, Обо мне не мечтаешь... Почему устроен мир не так, Для тебя моя любовь пустяк. От любви свечой сгораю, Видишь, я сгораю
Lovin’ I Lost
[Hook] I remember, I remember the days [Verse 1] I remember she sit there with her thickness Never played a game but I heard about them sisters A wise mister said love is gunna get
Я Не Для Тебя
Я под дождем иду по улице босая, Прости, мне кажется, что я тебя бросаю. Ла-ла-ла. В Москве жара, а ты одет не по погоде, Тебе домой пора ведь ты уже не в моде. Ла-ла-ла. Припев. На бульварах