I'm contagious, but I'm not outrageously mad. I'm corrupted, I'm just sh-sh-sh-shaking off the bad things that make me crazy. I'm alone, I'm safe from
You may be sharper than the sword your brother drew. While working late in Toledo, 1972. And drunk enough to slip inside his crowd, but you don't miss
I can't see black or white, and I won't make it through the night. What you don't know will never hurt you. A horrifying screech, from a parked car down
but they don't know a thing about the words across your chest. Who did you see between the reeds? No, we couldn't stay, so shameless and sane. Can the fruit on the tree
I might have lied to acquit my crimes. And I might have cried just to get me by. But how did I collide with all your guns and smoke? A thousand miles
I am your sons silhouette on the sidewalk. I am the lost quarterback on your big screen TV. Do what I say, and maybe we'll receive. You hide your secrets
Am I the bright sound in your head room? Am I that surrogate to your demand? Am I the bread and wine to be? Am I the hole in the dam? (Thanks to Brandon
Cry your eyes out for someone true. Sing an old song, and something new. Start without us, we'll be there soon. Just don't forget me, like I know you
poisoning from your daddy to me just didn't seem fair Committing the crime of taking your time You're laughing we're carving Your name in a tree for
me on the ground Think I just heard her laugh Up in the air Up there, up there in the air In the air Twelve floors up In the Camlin hotel Man at the
it again Ya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today? (Say what?) Ya say I'm gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankin' Drive off in a Def Oj Everybody go hotel
now we bust yo..op....(tic)....(tock) We lunatics with mics and we dont stop we come to rock The dirty dozen is non-stop.. To the top from tree tops to
blowing through the trees And rain fell softly on your face Oh I remember every little thing about that day I remember every place Grey skies, you were laughing
s a soft cotton dress on the line hangin' dry Window's wide open African trees Bent over backwards in a hurricane breeze Not a word, a goodbye, not even
(Chuck Jones/Steve Seskin) Look at me, eighteen and tanned, Behind the wheel of my old van, "Hotel California" turned up loud, No air-conditioning,
made it again ya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today (say what) ya say im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankin drive off in a def oj everybody go, hotel
it again ya go hotel motel whatcha gonna do today (say what) ya say im gonna get a fly girl gonna get some spankin drive off in a def oj everybody go, hotel
or they go One struggles to know One struggles to care But out beyond the Ten Tree walls The wind blows hard the highway crawls And if you should pass the James Hotel
