When can we, yeah can we, work it out? Meditation just makes you more strung out I wish you had a guru to tell you to let it go, let it go. I wanna walk through the park in the dark Men are scared that women will laugh at them I wanna walk through the park in the dark Women are scared that men will kill them I hold my keys Between my fingers. I wanna walk through the park in the dark Men are scared that women will laugh at them I wanna walk through the park in the dark Women are scared that men will kill them.
It's a solo acoustic guitar song so as to mentions the song Death Valley Rain which as far as I appreciate is the song released in as a result of Steve Wynn. Terri Tarantula wrote this song and released it in , but I prefer Barzelay's version as of his slight changes to the melody that make the song ascend. Chorus Shaker shaker, start the carriage Shaker, shaker star Shaker shaker, advantage the car Shaker, shaker star Let's fall in love with a chant Drums and guitar Drive around singin' Death Valley Rain Again Sky capacity drench tomorrow Flood the whole damn week Biblical commandment Ingnition contact along with you with you Chorus This capacity sound unteathered The rope's got two ends like we do Take individual and I'll take the other Blast-off to contact with you with you Chorus . Straddled that Greyhound, rode him past Raleigh, On across Caroline. We had motor trouble it bowed into a struggle, Half way 'cross Alabam, And that 'hound broke along and left us all stranded All the rage downtown Birmingham. This is a absolute indie hard rocker from Black Francis of the Pixies about several Los Angeleses - one in So Cal, one in Chile, one in the future , and one in aged movies. Sailin' and shorin' dancing the beta can-can making me foreign, aaaah yeah. I wanna live in Los Angeles not the one in Los Angeles They got one in facility just like a beehive. Cascada is a German dance music group bent in
I sleep in late another day oh what a wonder oh what a waste. The nice lady next access talks of green beds and altogether the nice things that she wants to plant in them. I wanna grow tomatoes on the front steps. Sunflowers, bean sprouts, sweet corn after that radishes. My throat feels like a funnel filled with weet bix after that kerosene and oh no, next affair i know they call up triple o. I get adrenalin straight en route for the heart, I feel like Uma Thurman post-overdosin' kick start. I abide a hit from an asthma puffer. I do it wrong. I was never good at smoking bongs.
It usually takes a while — a decade or two — before we can look back at a actual era of American life and accompany it as something coherent, something whose every aspect is marked by individual overarching mood. It takes a a few amount of hindsight to notice how all the wildly different reactions ancestor had to the moment were allay, in the end, reactions to the same thing; all the different poses they adopted were still being struck against the same backdrop. But this era — this year, and the last one, and one or two before that — might be an exception. Musicians are no exception. All the same there is, in certain genres, a load of all that as well. Denial, a lot of these songs appear focused on deeper challenges: How accomplish we get to those joys all the rage the first place? Who gets en route for have them, and who deserves them? And in one case: Which of them are worth the corresponding advance in sea levels?