Poor You - Lyrics - Frank Sinatra

Title: Poor You
Artist: Frank Sinatra
Composer(s): E Y Harburg, Burton Lane

Lyric:
Poor you, I'm sorry you're not me
For you will never know what loving you can be
Poor you, you'll never know your charms
You'll never feel your warmth, you're never in your arms

When it is you I'm kissing
I pity you constantly
You don't know what you're missing
'Cause you're only kissing poor me

Poor you, you live your whole life through
And yet you'll never know
The thrill of loving you

When it is you I'm kissing
I pity you constantly
You don't know what you're missing
'Cause you're only kissing poor me

Poor you, you live your whole life through
And yet you'll never know
The thrill of loving you

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Poor You - Lyrics - Judy Garland

Title: Poor You
Artist: Judy Garland
Composer(s): E Y Harburg, Burton Lane

Lyric:
Poor you, I'm sorry you're not me
For you will never know what loving you can be
Poor you, you'll never know your charms
You'll never feel your warmth, you're never in your arms

When it is you I'm kissing
I pity you constantly
You don't know what you're missing
'Cause you're only kissing poor me

Poor you, you live your whole life through
And yet you'll never know
The thrill of loving you

When it is you I'm kissing
I pity you constantly
You don't know what you're missing
'Cause you're only kissing poor me

Poor you, you live your whole life through
And yet you'll never know
The thrill of loving you

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Pull Up The People - Lyrics - Arular - M.I.A.

Title: Pull Up The People
Album: Arular
Artist: M.I.A.
Composer(s): Maya Arulpragasam, Brucker Paul Byrne, Dave Taylor

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
M.I.A.
M.I.A.
M.I.A.

Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor

Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the poor, pull up the poor

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang

Yeah, we got God now we got you
Everyday thinkin' bout how we get through
Everything I own is on IOU
But I'm here bringing y'all something new

You no like the people they no like you
Then they gonna set it off with a big boom
Son in a battle is a son and daughter too
Why you wanna talk about who done who
Why you wanna talk about

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang

Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor

Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the poor, pull up the poor

I'm a fighter, fighter god
I'm a soldier on that road
I'm a fighter, a nice nice fighter
I'm a soldier on that road

Bring me the reaper, bring me the lawyer
I'm a fighter I'll take 'em on
You treat me like a killer, I ain't never hate ya
I'm a soldier on that road

I'm a fighter, fighter god
I'm a soldier on that road
I'm a fighter, a nice nice fighter
I'm a soldier on that road

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang, bang, bang

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang, bang, bang

Slang tang, that's the M.I.A. thang
I got the bombs to make you blow
I got the beats to make you bang

Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor

Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor
Pull up the people, pull up the poor

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White Collar Boy - Lyrics - The Life Pursuit - Belle And Sebastian

Title: White Collar Boy
Album: The Life Pursuit
Artist: Belle And Sebastian
Composer(s): Bob Michael Kildea, Christopher Thoma Geddes, Richard William Colburn, Stephen Thomas Jackson, Stuart Lee Murdoch, Sarah Ann Martin, Michael Cooke

Lyric:
You're a white collar boy and you gave into the law
Give in to the pressure, the cops gonna getcha
You were a thieving dog at work until they caught your little paw
Your wage won't stretch to picking up checks

A custodial sentence she narrowly avoided
Community service you had to go along with
You're banging the rocks at the old city docks
Poor boy, poor boy, poor boy, poor boy
Poor boy, poor boy, poor boy, poor boy

You were chained to a girl that would kill you with a look
It's a nice way to die, she's so easy on the eye
She said, "Let's get away" but you played it by the book
You're a warden's pet, she's a screaming suffragette

And we ain't in prison, we'll just finish up and go home
She said, ?Not for me, I've got plans for later on?
So she belted the sarge, she jumped on a barge
And you fell, you fell, you fell, you fell
You fell, you fell, you fell, you fell

White collar got dirt in your pants
You got egg in your hair, you got spit on your chin
You're a white collar scared to be bored
Blue Collar, she's opening doors
White collar boy on the run from the law

She said, ?You ain't ugly, you can kiss me if you like?
Go ahead and kiss her, you don't know what you're missing
Now baby you're special but there's something not quite right
She's a Venus in flares and you wanna split hairs

Oh I am innocent, you were the rocket
Things were okay till you took out the copper
Now leave me alone, get used to the chains
You're a pain, you're a pain, you're a pain, you're a pain
You're a pain, you're a pain, you're a pain, you're a pain

White collar got dirt in your pants
You got egg in your hair, you've got spit on your chin
You're a white collar got dirt in your pants
You got egg in your hair, you've got spit on your chin

You're a white collar, scared to be bored
Blue Collar, she's opening doors
White collar boy on the run from the law
The law, the law, the law

Get on your bike, get on your horse

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Ghetto - Lyrics - Sticky Fingaz

Title: Ghetto
Artist: Sticky Fingaz
Composer(s): Ross Sloan, Kirk Jones, Francis Palacois

Lyric:
If your head is as big as Shamello's
If your bank is the check cashin' place
If you put on panty-hose instead of shavin' your legs
If you use grease that you used over and over again
If you only go to church on Easter and holidays
Then you ghetto, believe that

Can you be rich and be ghetto?
And just 'cause you poor, do that mean that you ghetto?
So people don't understand what it mean to be ghetto
And if you gonna ask then you probably never know

Bein' ghetto, it's just the things we do sometime
Like hangin' your clothes on the oven to dry
But you late, you gotta go and they ain't ready yet
You put 'em on anyway and rock 'em halfway wet
First you wear, then return everything you buy
Always lookin' for a discount 'til the day you die
Got three kids by three different guys
And all they need to give you is a Mai Tai and a shot

You know you ghetto when you use a wrench for a channel changer
No antenna, you gotta use a metal hanger
Drink from the container, put it back in the fridge
Knowin' damn well the shit was wrong you did
Put salt on your food before you even taste it
Get a doggy bag, ghetto niggaz ain't wastin' shit
You know you ghetto, no, you know you grimy
When you iron dirty pants 'til them shits get shiny

Can you be rich and be ghetto?
And just 'cause you poor, do that mean that you ghetto?
So people don't understand what it mean to be ghetto
And if you gonna ask then you probably never know

Can you be rich and be ghetto?
And just 'cause you poor, do that mean that you ghetto?
So people don't understand what it mean to be ghetto
And if you gonna ask then you probably never know

The ghetto's not a place, it don't matter what color you are
You could be white as chalk or as black as tar
And it really don't matter how much money you have
You can live on Fifth Ave. and be ghetto fab
You know you ghetto when your soap is the size of a chicklet
Run into the kitchen wet for dishwashin' liquid
The water cold 'cause they shut off all your power
You know you ghetto if you pee in the shower

No toilet paper, somebody used the last you had
No problem, just get a Daily News or a paper bag
Ball it up and crumble it, make it soft in your ass
But when you flush, the toilet always gets stopped up
And if you got the money, the landlord never get it
We never pay the rent, yo, we almost got evicted
If this shit is funny or offendin' you
Chances are, it's because you're ghetto too

Can you be rich and be ghetto?
And just 'cause you poor, do that mean that you ghetto?
So people don't understand what it mean to be ghetto
And if you gonna ask then you probably never know

Can you be rich and be ghetto?
And just 'cause you poor, do that mean that you ghetto?
So people don't understand what it mean to be ghetto
And if you gonna ask then you probably never know

Can you be rich and be ghetto
Can you be rich and be ghetto
Can you be rich and be ghetto
And if you gotta ask then you probably never know

Ghetto, East Coast is the ghetto
West Coast is the ghetto
South Side is the ghetto
Everywhere is the ghetto
The ghetto, the ghetto, the ghetto
I'll probably die in the ghetto

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Rich World Poor World - Lyrics - Guess Who

Title: Rich World Poor World
Artist: Guess Who
Composer(s): Burton Cummings, Dominic Troiano

Lyric:
Rich world, poor world
Everyday it?s gettin? modified
Rich world, poor world
Aren?t you glad you?re on the western side?

Individual luxury just might be the trump of the game
If you come back 'round with a gun at your head
I?m sure the view will never be the same

I heard something that you never been told
You?ll have trouble just tryin? to get old
I got something, gonna give you the word
I?m interested if you have heard

I don?t really mean to bring you right down
The safest place for you?s way under the ground
I got somethin' that you never been told
Told, you been told, you been told, you been told
You been told, you been told

Rich world, poor world
Fewer places every day to hide
Rich world, poor world
I like it better on the western side

A growing epidemic of ignorance
Been keeping me on the run
With a jaded ear and a whole lot of fear
We?re gonna wither up one by one

I got something that you never been told
Gonna have trouble just tryin? to get old
I got something that you never heard
Come on now, just spread the word

I got somethin?, gonna make you hip
Now don?t go blabbin? and let it slip
For what you got, I think you overpaid
I?m afraid, I?m afraid, I?m afraid, I?m afraid

"Hi there, little starving Asian child with bloated belly
Open sores and look of despair, my, you are hungry, aren?t you?
You know, I?d love to help you get enough nutrition
To perpetuate your misery a little further"
But right now I?ve just got to finish this thesis
On the 'Divine right of kings
See you tomorrow"

"Hi there, little golden Greekette, Capri-bound modern Venus
With fenced beach and medically transformed nose and midriff
I know how heartbroken you are that your best friend beat you to Paris For the unveiling of the latest fashions"

"And I?d love to console you
But, you see, I lost my right leg yesterday
Trying to scrounge up a shot of antibiotics
Oh well"

Rich world, poor world
Everyday it?s gettin? modified
Rich world, poor world
I like it better on the western side

A growing epidemic of ignorance
Been keepin? us on the run
With a jaded ear and a whole lot of fear
We?re gonna wither up one by one

I heard somethin? gonna make you blue
Don?t get excited 'cause you know it ain?t new
I got somethin? gonna make you hip
Now don?t go blabbin? and let it slip, you hear

Now I don?t mean to be bringin? you down
You won?t be safe till you?re layin? in the ground
For what you got I think you overpaid
I?m afraid, I?m afraid, I?m afraid, I?m afraid, I?m afraid

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Baller Bitch - Lyrics - Foxy Brown

Title: Baller Bitch
Artist: Foxy Brown
Composer(s): Inga Marchand, G Marchand, T Shaw

Lyric:
Yo foxy, shorty yo
Don't let that pretty shit fool you yo
I ain't pay that bitch phone bill

This is for all my ballin' ass bitches
All over worldwide
Shake them thighs for them pies
For all my niggas on every street corner
That's right, love you all niggas

This is for the baller bitch
The waller bitch
My niggas never call a bitch
You all be rich
So Short, what you mean?
I bet I be a poor girl's dream
More money than she ever seen

This is for the baller cats
All the cats
That want a bitch to lay on their back
To hell with that
So Fox what you mean?
Bet I be a poor nigga's dream
More money than he ever seen

Kiss the projects goodbye
I'm a change you bitch
I'm a have niggas thinkin' you a famous bitch
Here's the keys to the Benz but don't start the car
If you good I'm a let you park the car
From a straight broke ass to a baller bitch
They got no other choice but to call you rich
I got hella fly ladies, never cry ladies

Those cheat on they man type, tell a lie ladies
Diamond rings, platinum chains
Tell them 'Baller Bitch' when they ask your name
I say strut that strut
Walk that walk, pop that shit, talk that talk
Hold your head high, be proud of this life
Pray to God that you never fall out of this life
'Cause it's much more better than all world scenes
Bitch open up your eyes, it's a poor girls dream

This is for the baller bitch
The waller bitch
My niggas never call a bitch
Y'all be rich
So Short, what you mean?
I bet I be a poor girl's dream
More money than she ever seen

This is for the baller cats
All the cats
That want a bitch to lay on their backs
To hell with that
So Fox, what you mean?
Bet I be a poor nigga's dream
More money than he ever seen

That's right
Kiss that jail shit goodbye
I'm a lace you nigga
I'm a have bitches thinkin' you a famous nigga
Here's the keys to the crib
Have you lovin' this life
And bitches ain't nothing fuckin' with a thug in your life
And you frontin' ass niggas who be courtin' the hype
Like they OT

And ain't ever sold a drug in they life
I got husslin' ass niggas
Thuggin' ass niggas
Always on some shit never trustin' ass niggas
Bust your guns niggas cop your ones
And tell them 'Big Baller' when you flash your ones
Nigga lock the bar down
Show these cats how it's done
And slide through the hood and go fuck with your Dons

This is for the baller bitch
The waller bitch
My niggas never call a bitch
You all be rich
So Short, what you mean?
I bet I be a poor girl's dream
More money than she ever seen

This is for the baller cats
All the cats
That want a bitch to lay on their back
To hell with that
So Fox, what you mean?
Bet I be a poor nigga's dream
More money than he ever seen

That's right
Call me what you want
I've been heard the worst
And if there's Cris in this bitch
Then I'm poppin' it first
And if the 700s come, I'll be coppin' it first
So whenever you see some hot shit, I'm rockin' it first

Shit, droppin' it first
The pardon choppin' it first
Basically when I ride by I'm hurtin' them worse
So now, boo what you gonna do?
You see how quick I got you
That's how quick I will drop you

This is for the baller bitch
The waller bitch
My niggas never call a bitch
Y'all be rich
So Short, what you mean?
I bet I be a poor girl's dream
More money than she ever seen

This is for them baller cats
All the cats
That want a bitch to lay on their back
To hell with that
So Fox, what you mean?
Bet I be a poor nigga's dream
More money than he ever seen

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Poor Boy Down - Lyrics - Mike &Amp; The Mechanics

Title: Poor Boy Down
Artist: Mike &Amp; The Mechanics
Composer(s): Chris Neil, Mike Rutherford

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
He's a poor boy in his pocket
He's a poor boy in his shoes
He's done his time, he's stood in line
That boy has paid his dues

He ain't looking for a handout
He's just looking for a start
He don't hate anyone, he don't carry a gun
You can tell that kid is smart

So you can't keep that poor boy down
You can be unkind, you can rob him blind
But you can't keep that poor boy down
You can lie and cheat, you can chain his feet
But you can't keep that poor boy down

And all down throughout the ages
The kid's been treated rough
Just take a look in any history book
You can see that times were tough

Now we move up to the nineties
Up to the 21st
One day he'll stand a full grown man
And be the same as all of us

So you can't keep that poor boy down
You can lock him up
You can break his cup
But you can't keep that poor boy down

You can fight and steal, you can drag your heels
But you can't keep that poor boy down
You can kick his ass if the kid's got class
You can't keep that poor boy down

Let's stop the truck
Go back and pick him up
You can't keep that poor boy down
Let him go

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Mixed Up Mess Of A Heart - Lyrics - Danni Leigh

Title: Mixed Up Mess Of A Heart
Artist: Danni Leigh
Composer(s): Tommy Collins, Merle Haggard

Lyric:
Oh, you poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart
You let a little bitty man go and tear you all apart
I warned you a thousand times
You wouldn't listen, paid me no mind
You poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart

I watched him buy his ticket in Charlotte, North Carolina
I heard him say, "One way, please to Denver"
He's goin' to meet that other girl
Won't do us no good to cry
'Cause she's wearin' his ring on her finger

Oh, you poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart
You let a little bitty man go and tear you all apart
I warned you a thousand times
You wouldn't listen, paid me no mind
You poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart

I watched him tip the porter
As he stepped aboard that midnight train
Bound to take him far away forever
I watched the tail light fade away
Knowin' he was gone to stay
I just wish this broken heart was with him

Oh, you poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart
You let a little bitty man go and tear you all apart
I warned you a thousand times
You wouldn't listen, paid me no mind
You poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart

Oh, you poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart
You let a little bitty man go and tear you all apart
I warned you a thousand times
You wouldn't listen, paid me no mind
You poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart
You poor, broke, mixed up mess of a heart

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21464c0545c63bfc4744d03664413946

Tom Dooley - Lyrics - Doc Watson

Title: Tom Dooley
Artist: Doc Watson
Composer(s): Doc (Arr) Watson

Lyric:
Hang your head, Tom Dooley
Hang your head and cry
You killed poor Laurie Foster
And you know you're bound to die

You left her by the roadside
Where you begged to be excused
You left her by the roadside
Then you hid her clothes and shoes

Hang your head, Tom Dooley
Hang your head and cry
You killed poor Laurie Foster
And you know you're bound to die

You took her on the hillside
For to make her your wife
You took her on the hillside
And there you took her life

You dug the grave four feet long
And you dug it three feet deep
You rolled the cold clay over her
And tromped it with your feet

Hang your head, Tom Dooley
Hang your head and cry
You killed poor Laurie Foster
And you know you're bound to die

Trouble, oh it's trouble
A-rollin' through my breast
As long as I'm a-livin', boys
They ain't a-gonna let me rest

I know they're gonna hang me
Tomorrow I'll be dead
Though I never even harmed a hair
On poor little Laurie's head

Hang your head, Tom Dooley
Hang your head and cry
You killed poor Laurie Foster
And you know you're bound to die

In this world and one more
Then reckon where I'll be
If is wasn't for Sheriff Grayson
I'd be in Tennessee

You can take down my old violin
And play it all you please
For at this time tomorrow, boys
It'll be of no use to me

Hang your head, Tom Dooley
Hang your head and cry
You killed poor Laurie Foster
And you know you're bound to die

At this time tomorrow
Where do you reckon I'll be?
Away down yonder in the holler
Hangin' on a white oak tree

Hang your head, Tom Dooley
Hang your head and cry
You killed poor Laurie Foster
And you know you're bound to die

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Miss Me Blind - Lyrics - Colour By Numbers - Culture Club

Title: Miss Me Blind
Album: Colour By Numbers
Artist: Culture Club
Composer(s): Hay Craig Moss George O'Dowd, Picket

Lyric:
Miss me, I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

Bet you got a good gun
Bet you know how
To have some fun
And then
You turn it around on me
Because I'm better
Than the rest of the men

I say, "You'll miss me"
And you always do
I say, "You'll miss me"
Now would I lie to you
Now there's no need to demand
Grab my golden hand I'll teach you
And you'll never be sure
If the way that you need
Is too much like greed
Decide if you are rich or you're poor

I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

Bet you make the fool run
Bet you know how
To make it last for ever
But you know
I'm never really sure
If you're just kissing to be clever

I say, "You'll miss me"
And you always do
I say, "You'll miss me"
Now would I lie to you
Now there's no need to demand
Grab my golden hand I'll teach you
And you'll never be sure
If the way that you need
Is too much like greed
Decide if you are rich or you're poor

Because this love
That I have to give
Must be better than thet kind
It can make you rich
It can make you poor
But I know that
You'll miss me blind

I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me
I know you'll miss me blind

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2fa40e3faa6391795b9ef5756e81f4eb

Gotta Serve Somebody - Lyrics - Slow Train Coming - Bob Dylan

Title: Gotta Serve Somebody
Album: Slow Train Coming
Artist: Bob Dylan
Composer(s): Bob Dylan

Lyric:
You may be an ambassador to England or France
You may like to gamble, you might like to dance
You may be the heavyweight champion of the world
You may be a socialite with a long string of pearls

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

You might be a rock n' roll addict, prancin' on the stage
You might have drugs at your command, women in a cage
You may be a business man or some high degree thief
They may call you doctor or they may call you chief

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes you're
You're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

You may be a state trooper, you might be a young turk
You may be the head of some big TV network
You may be rich or poor, you may be blind or lame
You may be livin' in another country under another name

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes you're
You're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

You may be a construction worker workin' on a home
You might be livin' in a mansion, you might live in a dome
You might own guns and you might even own tanks
You might be somebody's landlord, you might even own banks

But you're gonna have to serve somebody
Yes you're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

You may be a preacher with your spiritual pride
You may be a city councilman takin' bribes on the side
You may be workin' in a barbershop, you may know how to cut hair
You may be somebody's mistress, may be somebody's heir

But you're gonna have to serve somebody
Yes you're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

Might like to wear cotton, might like to wear silk
Might like to drink whiskey, might like to drink milk
You might like to eat caviar, you might like to eat bread
You may be sleepin' on the floor, sleepin' in a king-sized bed

But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

You may call me Terry, you may call me Timmy
You may call me Bobby, you may call me Zimmy
You may call me R.J., you may call me Ray
You may call me anything, no matter what you say

You're still gonna have to serve somebody
Yes you're gonna have to serve somebody
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody

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06d2f78be2492e0c4aa700a92437a946

Mr. Blue - Lyrics - Dance Hall Crashers

Title: Mr. Blue
Artist: Dance Hall Crashers
Composer(s): Jason Hammon, Karina Schwarz, Mikey Weiss, Elyse Rogers

Lyric:
You've had all the breaks
Learning from your mom's mistakes
Eating off your daddy's plate
Spending all your wasted taste

You can't see past your gate
Once I saw you dip your toe
Past the line at the end of the road
But frightened you came running home

You've had all the luck
They fought it out for you
Without them you'd be stuck
They held your hand to walk through

Don't forget you're bored
And that's your only problem
Times for you ain't tough
Just try showing them some gratitude

Oh, quit your whining, it's so boring
Play the victim and keep me yawning
How do you expect me to believe
The scene that you're describing

Hey there, Mr. Blue
I'm hurting just by listening to what you've been through
Poor baby, or what did they do to you
Whoa, poor old Mr. Blue

Inside your white fence
The glass house you've created
Things are getting tense
Don't feel appreciated

Glance out of your window
It looks like sun to me
But you just count the clouds
Sigh and beg for sympathy

Oh, quit your whining, it's so boring
Play the victim and keep me yawning
How do you expect me to believe
The scene that you're describing

Hey there, Mr. Blue
I'm hurting just by listening to what you've been through
Poor baby, or what did they do to you
Whoa, poor old Mr. Blue

You could sit there forever
Blaming others but never
Allowing things to get better
You keep trying
And maybe we should just give up

Oh, quit your whining, it's so boring
Play the victim and keep me yawning
How do you expect me to
Believe you

Hey there, Mr. Blue
I'm hurting just by listening to what you've been through
Poor baby, or what did they do to you
Whoa, poor old Mr. Blue

Hey there, Mr. Blue
Hey there, Mr. Blue
What did they do to you
Whoa, poor old Mr. Blue

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Poor Damned Fool - Lyrics - Harry Chapin

Title: Poor Damned Fool
Artist: Harry Chapin
Composer(s): Harry F. Chapin

Lyric:
You're a living walking dream
You're the best I've ever seen
Oh God I wanted you!
I've often dreamed what I would do
If I could give myself to you
Oh God I wanted to!

But up till now you've not been free to be
Fooling around with the likes of me
But it's changed now, though it's strange how
He's the one that arranged it now

But he's a poor damned fool
'Cause he went and let you go now
Just a poor damned fool
He never will know now

Maybe someday he'll be sad
I say that that's too bad
He never knew how much he had
I'm glad I got you now

Yes, I've had my ups and downs
As I've been rambling around
And I'll be candid
I could not believe my eyes
When I finally realized
Just what that man did

Yes I've heard 'bout finders keepers
And how losers are the weepers, that's okay
I know it's my lucky day
Still I just got to say

That he's a poor damned fool
He went and let you go now
Just a poor damned fool
He never will know now

Maybe someday he'll be sad
I say that that's too bad
He never knew how much he had
I'm glad I got you now

Oh, how I'd love to hear you say
You're glad that it worked out this way
And you'll forget about yesterday
'Cause you feel so good
It's worked out real good
You make me feel so good

I've been trying to find a way to cope
With grasping straws and fallen hopes
But he's made a way
And now his misfortune is my gain
Though for now it gives you pain
It'll fade away

And you'll find that as the years roll by
And the memories of the time you cried
Will be laid away
Yes, they'll fade away, fade away

And you'll forget that poor damned fool
'Cause he went and let you go now
Just a poor damned fool
But he never will know now

And though maybe someday he'll be sad
I got to say that, that's too bad
He never knew how much he had
I'm glad I got you now
He was a poor damn fool

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f68b617977ac9a36bc47ec4a668dd939

The Very Thing That Makes You Rich (Makes Me Poor) - Lyrics - Ry Cooder

Title: The Very Thing That Makes You Rich (Makes Me Poor)
Artist: Ry Cooder
Composer(s): Sidney Bailey

Lyric:
My father told me, lyin' on his bed of death
"Boy," he says, "Woman, she's gonna make it, don't fool yourself
'Cause she's got somethin' to make a man
Lay that money, uh, right in her hand
And the very thing that makes her rich will make you poor
The very thing that makes her rich will make you poor", that's right

Well, I put you behind the wheel of a deuce and a quarter, yes I did
Had you livin' like a rich man's daughter, yes I did, I sure did
While you were livin' high on the hog
You had me down here scuffling like a dog
Well, the very thing that made you rich made me poor
Very thing that made you rich made me poor

Don't you never, ever make such a bad mistake
You know I'd rather climb into bed with a rattlesnake, that's right
Then to work hard every day bringin' that woman all my pay
The very thing that makes her rich makes me poor
Makes me so damn poor

The thing that makes her rich makes me poor
Very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Very thing that makes you rich makes me poor
Makes me so damn poor

Money won't change it, no no
Money won't change it, no no
Money won't change it, no no
...

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9623da811e00886bcdf331f0914f2112

Ci &Amp; Jojo - How Could You - Lyrics - Love Always - K

Title: Ci &Amp; Jojo - How Could You
Album: Love Always
Artist: K
Composer(s): Joey Elias, Gloria Stewart, Jonathan Robinson

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
All I can do is sit alone
In my room, baby thinking about you
How could this be
That you are not here with me
When I gave you the best of me

I face each day, each day
Without a smile and life seems so unfair
I feel like I wanna die
'Cause you didn't even give me a last
You didn't give me a last goodbye, baby

I've waited weeks for your call
I've waited here by the phone
But when the silence grew long
I knew that something was wrong

Right then I knew it, babe
How could you do it, babe?
How could you tear my poor heart in two?

How could you do it, babe?
How could you do it, do it, do it, do it?
How could you do it, baby
And tear my poor heart in two?

Ain't no more blue up in my sky
Only cloudy mornings
And these tears like rain you left behind
All of those memories in the corner of my mind

I started looking at us
At a picture in a frame as I start to cry
'Cause I can't picture us apart
Oh my God can you help me?
Can you help with this pain
With this pain I'm feeling deep down inside Lord?

I've waited weeks for your call
I've waited here by the phone
But when the silence grew long
I knew that something was wrong

Right then I knew it, babe
How could you do it, babe?
How could you tear my poor heart in two?

Girl tell me it's not true
Will I have to spend the rest of my life without you, baby?
How can I get through
How can I get through this pain of losing you?
Baby, tell me why

I've waited weeks for your call
I've waited here by the phone
But when the silence grew long
I knew that something was wrong
Right then I knew it, babe

How could you do it, babe?
How could you tear my poor heart in two?

I've waited weeks for your call
I've waited here by the phone
But when the silence grew long
I knew that something was wrong

Right then I knew it, babe
How could you do it, babe?
How could you tear my poor heart in two?

How could you do it, babe?
How could you do it, baby
And tear my poor heart in two?
Sorry baby, baby
Said, "I'm so sorry, baby"

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ab88bb8d93d660edf5924f7d509915fe

Antisaint - Lyrics - Vena Sera - Chevelle

Title: Antisaint
Album: Vena Sera
Artist: Chevelle
Composer(s): Samuel Loeffler, Peter Loeffler

Lyric:
Visit again white elephant
Who sent you to the loom?
Shall we sever everything?
Ponder this while we ponder why

He's starting to follow crows
And climbing the ladder somewhere out to really begin to scare
And plotting to clear the grounds
With a fine tooth comb

You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint

Nothing to say for the last time
Just want to sink his will
Like a predator's prey in the cold
Slowly starts to show

Assurance is what they need
Hold the lion until it's fed
It's still only morning
But the fly's surfaced

You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint

The stakes are too low
We may not need any
Could we never feel?
And if you could tell

That the cleverest acting
Was the lying by you
Lying by you
Lying by you

You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint
You poor little Antisaint

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ee014d2e775a592e191c36b721c82c28

You Shook Me - Lyrics - Blues Summit - B.B. King

Title: You Shook Me
Album: Blues Summit
Artist: B.B. King
Composer(s): J B Lenoir, Willie Dixon

Lyric:
Well, well, well
She shook me, shook me, shook me
(Yes, she shook me)
All night long, all night long
(All night long, all night long)

You, you, you know this woman
She shook me, shook me
All night long, all night long
All night long, mm, hmm
(Mm, hmm)

Now B, she shook me
Go ahead, tell me about it, John
Just like a hurricane, hurricane
You, you, you know that woman

She shook me, shook me
Like a hurricane, hurricane
Shake the ground, you know
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

You shook me, baby
You shook me all night long
You shook me, baby
You shook me all night long

You kept on shaking me, baby
Till you messed up my happy home
My happy home, my happy home
The woman broke up
My happy home, my happy home, mm, hmm

Now, now, they broke up, they broke up
My only home, mm, hmm, hmm
My only home
My wife and child

Ooh, you move me, baby
Just like a hurricane
Just like a hurricane

You move me, baby
Just like a hurricane, like a hurricane
You know you move me, baby
Just like an earthquake
On the land, on the land, yeah, yeah

Talk about it some more, John
You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you
You shouldn't shake me
The way you do, way you do
All night long

Sometimes I wonder
What's gonna happen
To my poor wife and child, I got a child
She done made me love her
And now I can't be satisfied

You, you, you, you, you
(Sometimes I wonder)
Can shake me the way you do
(What's gonna happen)
To my poor wife and child

You, you, you, you, you, you, you
You shouldn't shake me way you do
(You done made me love you)
And now I can't be satisfied

You, you, you
You, you, you, you, you
(You, you, you)
Shouldn't shake me way you do
(Shouldn't shake me, baby)

The woman shook me
(The woman shook me, shook me)
Woman shook me, shook me
Shook me, shook me
(Ooh, ooh, ooh)
Like an earthquake shakes the ground

That feel good, tell her again
Look, woman
I ain't gonna let you, you, you, you
Hurt me no more
(I ain't gonna let you hurt me)

You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you
You, you, you can't hurt me no more
(You ain't gonna hurt me no more)
I ain't letting you hurt me, hurt me
Hurt me, no more, no more
No more, yeah

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39bbd1a10d1295340b7ba90a89eaabba

That Close To You - Lyrics - Common Sense - John Prine

Title: That Close To You
Album: Common Sense
Artist: John Prine
Composer(s): John Prine

{AdsenseCode:2D080010-7055-443A-8D12-2B79DDC71256}

Lyric:
Like a bolt of lightning, like a bolt of thunder
Like a cloudy day, down at the zoo
Like a drowning man that will never go under
That close to you, yeah, that close to you

In the middle of the night
You'd ask me to make you smile
You'd come on like a one armed child
With a hole in its shoe, poor you

Everybody oughtta know
It only hurts you for a little while
So stop putting yourself on trial
For something you didn't do
Not you, to me, can't we be just like

Lovers and mothers and brothers and sorrow
Can I find a little something with a nicer view
I'm hating to plead but I'm begging to borrow
Just to be close to you, yeah, that close to you

In the middle of the night
You'd ask me to make you smile
You'd come on like a one armed child
With a hole in its shoe, poor you

Everybody oughtta know
It only hurts you for a little while
So stop putting yourself on trial
For something you didn't do
Not you, to me, can't we be just like

Lovers and mothers and brothers and sorrow
Can I find a little something with a nicer view
I'm hating to plead but I'm begging to borrow
Just to be that close to you, yeah, that close to you
Ooh, that close to you, yeah, that close to you

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15e9e6f26462f61c4b9d494caa941166

B.Y.O.B. - Lyrics - Mezmerize - System Of A Down

Title: B.Y.O.B.
Album: Mezmerize
Artist: System Of A Down
Composer(s): Casey Chmielinski, Serj Tankian, Daron Malakian

Lyric:
Why do they always send the poor?

Barbarisms by Barbara with pointed heels
Victorious victories kneel for brand new spanking deals
Marching forward hypocritic and hypnotic computers
You depend on our protection yet you feed us lies from the tablecloth

Everybody's going to the party, have a real good time
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine

Kneeling roses disappearing into Moses' dry mouth
Breaking into Fort Knox stealing our intentions
Hangars sitting dripped in oil, crying, "Freedom!"
Handed to obsoletion still you feed us lies from the tablecloth

Everybody's going to the party, have a real good time
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine
Everybody's going to the party, have a real good time
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine

Blast off, it's party time
And we don?t live in a fascist nation
Blast off, it's party time
And where the fuck are you?

Where the fuck are you?
Where the fuck are you?

Why don't presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why don't presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?

Kneeling roses disappearing into Moses' dry mouth
Breaking into Fort Knox stealing our intentions
Hangars sitting dripped in oil, crying, "Freedom!"
Handed to obsoletion still you feed us lies from the tablecloth

Everybody's going to the party, have a real good time
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sunshine
Everybody's going to the party, have a real good time
Dancing in the desert blowing up the sun

Where the fuck are you?
Where the fuck are you?

Why don't presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why don't presidents fight the war?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?

Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
Why do they always send the poor?
They always send the poor
They always send the poor

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