Summer sky and a throat bone dry And the fields are all gold Dusty lane with a song in my brain And it stoned me to my soul I climb higher move towards
No one knows where the ladder goes You're gonna lose what you love the most You're not alone in anything You're not unique in dying I feel estranged
Ebb Tide First the tide rushes in Plants a kiss on the shore Then rolls out to sea And the sea is very still once more So I rush to your side Like the
Change your heart Look around you (look around....) Change your heart It will astound you I need your lovin' Like the sunshine Everybody's gotta learn
everyday its gettin coser going faster than a rollercoster love like yours will surely come my way ahey ahey hey everyday its gettin
you've done it all, you've broken every code and pulled the rebel to the floor you spoilt the game, no matter what you say for only metal - what a
Solsbury Hill Climbing up on Solsbury Hill I could see the city light Wind was blowing, time stood still Eagle flew out of the night He was something
You never close your eyes Anymore when I kiss your lips There's no tenderness Like before in you fingertips You're trying hard not to show it, But baby
what's passed To our sons we can leave some signs So like our fathers we might last Folk songs can help to light injustices and fights And everybody has their song
Come here alone and they leave in twos Except for you and me who just came to use If you're all done like you said you'd be What are you doing hanging
One type of song that has come into increasing prominence in recent months is the folk-song of protest. you have to admire people who sing these songs
I have waited the night over For some word to come I asked the moon o'er the clover But the moon she is dumb You've made me a promise At midnight we'
My hands are tied behing my back my face is red with hate I know i've tried to be the better man but I can't accept this fate It's seems every time I
Hört ihr wie das Volk erklingt Von unserer Wut erzählt der Wind Das ist die Sinfonie von Menschen Die nicht länger Sklaven sind Jedes Herz
Lying in the long, long grass Blossom on the trees Springtime's slipping away, my love Yeah, springtime's slipping away When it comes around again It
It's like picking up the pieces is a daily chore Thinking of your time card forms a habit Watching rick folks on T.V.'s like picking a sore Fuck it
nation has a creative vein Originating a native strain With folk songs plaintive and others gay In their own peculiar way American folk songs, I feel
They come over here and they take all our land They chop of our heads and they boil them in oil Our children are leaving and we have no heads We drink
