Testi musica canzoni

She played for the angels
I played for the tribe
The summer had been stolen
And the faces were all lonely
There was big money on the line
Big money on the line, yeah
There was big money on the line

I can't walk so I guess I'm gonna stay at home
They can have my legs just leave my mail alone

I was in the kitchen
The year was in the fall
A friend of mine told me
That there weren't no point in moaning
No there weren't no point at all
There's big fire in the hall, yeah
There weren't no points at all

I can't walk so I guess I'm gonna stay at home
They can have my legs just leave my mail alone
And I can't talk so I guess I got nothing to say
I'll keep my eyes just take these tears away

Lock, stock and barrel
All the dogs had gone infertile
And the car ran like a broken perculator
His liver had gone hard
And he wouldn't mow the yard
There was big money on the line

And I heard that his brother was a bikie
He liked to solve a problem with a gun
If you want to know the facts
You've gotta teach them how to act
And I hate cough syrup
Don't you?

I'd rather be a sailor than a fighter
I'd like to sail a ship into the sun
If you wanna know the truth
You gotta dig up Johnny Booth
And I hate cough syrup
Don't you?

I know your mother is a martyr
I've heard she's got connections with the mob
If you wanna learn to fight
You've gotta drink up all the white
And I hate cough syrup
Don't you?

I'd rather be a matchstick than a lighter
I like to see the wood curl up and burn
If you wanna touch the sky
You must be prepared to die
And I hat