I want to sing a song for You I want to sing a song I sing about Your mercy I sing about Your love Your goodness, Lord Your righteousness I want to sing a song
want to sing a song for You, Lord Lord, for You I want to sing a song And I want to lift my voice to Heaven And listen to the angels sing along A song
Перевод: Третий день. Пойте песни.
I want to sing a song for You, Lord Lord, for You I want to sing a song And I want to lift my voice to Heaven And listen to the angels sing along A song
on its like im trapped in a song, trying to find the right words so the whole world can sing along, and if i lie in a song it aint coz im writing it wrong
to figure they way out Hey, hey, hey, all we ever wanted to say Was chased erased and then thrown away And day to day we live in a daze We march all
reggae and jazz some rock and roll could be cool but I'm a hip hop baby from the heart and never flip flop baby gimme a drank and a song and I'll be stress
turns on its like im trapped in a song, trying to find the right words so the whole world can sing along, and if i lie in a song it aint coz im writing
got a whole lot of heartache from missing you Now tell me baby, how long Won'tcha come home And must I sing this song Won'tcha come home Oh, I must stop this third
I yearn for the days that are gone! I'd wake in the morning to a whippoorwill song. There by the fire sits my lady fair. Singing this song as the combs
Yes, I am. Oooh, yes I am. Rains came the very next day but I been gone to long. There's a gal in Portland town and she sings a marryin' song. Goin'
stress and strife But it's good to have turn to be a king for a day Or for a week, or for a year, or for a year and a day Come what may I'm fishing
all singing along Somebody started thinking about the third line And maybe someone's saying a prayer for the first time And that's enough reason to keep me singing my songs Singing my songs
a third verse that The Who or you might want to do! Gonna take two secs, gonna write a fine tune for the JFK kin! Gonna sing this song till word comes
's a playa can't associate with the plexin' Bone hard, bitch, Mo City, Texas And a veteran don't get me wrong 'cause put you a glass Pour you a glass
