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BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN lyrics - Born To Run

Circus Song

Original and similar lyrics
The machinist climbs his ferris wheel like a brave And the fire eater's lyin' in a pool of sweat victim of the heatwave Behind the tent the leatherboy tightens his legs On the sword swallower's blade Circus town's on the shortwave Well now (and) the runway lies ahead like a great false dawn Oh fat lady, Missy Bimbo, sits in her chair and yawns And the man-beast lies in his cage sniffin' popcorn The midget licks his fingers and suffers Missy Bimbo's scorn The circus town's been born Oh and a (the) press-roll drummer go, ballerina to-and-fro Cart-wheelin' up on (across) the tightrope (And) with a cannon blast, lightning flash, moving fast through The tent Mars bent, he's gonna miss his fall Oh God save the human cannonball And the flying Zambini's watch Marguerita do her neck twist (And) the ringmaster gets the crowd to count along Ninety-five, ninety-six,....ninety-seven And behind the tent half bent money spent With his wet face fallin' (make-up drippin') on the ground With a half-smile half-frown goin' down Oh Jesus sent some sweet women to save all the clowns And circus boy dances like a monkey on barbed wire And the barker romances with a junkie, she's got a flat tyre And the elephants dance real funky, and the band plays like a jungle fire Circus town's on the live wire Samson lifts the midget up above the liars Hear the liars, they're outside crying Hear the liars, they're inside sighing Hear the liars, listenin' to the barker Hear the liars, watching the centre ring Oh hear the liars, up on the trapeze Oh hear the liars, feel their fire Oh hear the liars, feel their fire Oh hear the liars, they're all scared of dying Well anybody wants to try the big top All aboard, Nebraska's our next stop

If You See Her Say Hello

BOB DYLAN "Blood On The Tracks"
If you see her say hello she might be in Tangier She left here last early spring is living there I hear Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow She might think that I've forgotten her don't tell her it isn't so. We had a falling-out like lovers often will And to think of how she left that night it still brings me a chill And though our separation it pierced me to the heart She still lives inside of me we've never been apart. If you get close to her kiss her once for me I always have respected her for doing what she did and getting free Oh whatever makes her happy I won't stay in the way Though the bitter taste still lingers on from the night I tried to make her stay I see a lot of people as I make the rounds And I hear her name here and there as I go from town to town And I've never gotten used to it I've just learned to turn it off Either I'm too sensitive or else I'm getting soft. Sundown yellow moon I replay the past I know every scene by heart they all went by so fast If she's passing back this way I'm not that hard to find Tell her she can look me up if she's got the time.

The Load-Out

JACKSON BROWNE "Running On Empty"
(Jackson Browne & Bryan Garofalo) Now the seats are all empty Let the roadies take the stage Pack it up and tear it down They're the first to come and last to leave Working for that minimum wage They'll set it up in another town Tonight the people were so fine They waited there in line And when they got up on their feet they made the show And that was sweet... But I can hear the sound Of slamming doors and folding chairs And that's a sound they'll never know Now roll them cases out and lift them amps Haul them trusses down and get'em up them ramps 'Cause when it comes to moving me You guys are the champs But when that last guitar's been packed away You know that I still want to play So just make sure you got it all set to go Before you come for my piano But the band's on the bus And they're waiting to go We've got to drive all night and do a show in Chicago or Detroit, I don't know We do so many shows in a row And these towns all look the same We just pass the time in our hotel rooms And wander 'round backstage Till those lights come up and we hear that crowd And we remember why we came Now we got country and western on the bus R and B, we got disco in eight tracks and cassettes in stereo We've got rural scenes & magazines We've got truckers on the CB We've got Richard Pryor on the video We got time to think of the ones we love While the miles roll away But the only time that seems too short Is the time that we get to play People you've got the power over what we do You can sit there and wait Or you can pull us through Come along, sing the song You know you can't go wrong 'Cause when that morning sun comes beating down You're going to wake up in your town But we'll be scheduled to appear A thousand miles away from here

Ground Breaking

[Madchild] Mental, torture chamber magnificent structure Swollen sculp dust surfing senses danger Spark this bats dangle in darkness Crept beneath the depth of the swamp I'm the lochness Chop this one up on the board for the young lord Beats and lyrics matchhouse matches your spirit And rips your heart through your body and puts it next to your ear so you can hear it Local vocal viking no striking resemblance No gimmicks of emblem Assemble my ensemble Caught upon the problem Hunger still fierce stomach still grumbles Still pounding the pavement watch concrete crumble.... This is an undeground invasion Busting out from underneath just to rise to this occasion And sneak through Swollen Members freaks you with E.Q. Putting in work and I got lots of girls to speak to Anger and passion permanent temper tantrum S & M rocks the spot that's the anthem Supposed to fall back into depression but i can't-um Having a ball dance with this handsome phantom Tongues of labyrinth, shaping and molding I'm whipping up a little something in a witches cauldron Dreams are made of this warlocks potent potion Unleash the savage beast, dangerous devotion [Prevail] I see you grinding to a halt Do I remind you of blistering nitroglycerine rhyme assault Vails venomous radio occult A commision of exactoplay spitting indults Nice to make your acquantaince sorry I beat you to a pulp A more relationship to dope shit but now it'll be pretty obvious My voice is the last thing you hear, before you slip into unconsciousness I promise, this will be a trip you'll never unclip Unless you feel the hammer paste strip straight through your lip I love to grip a strip off my sworn opposites Swarmith the unit of hornets who love to sting shit Bring me my mic case I wanna slice 'em to bits Start at the body dicing 'em open and stroll his dip Alarm trip, someone skip the trip wire Skip with barbed wire ruler hanger wire empire Hey driver, any survivors, anyone liver Anybody in the line of fire Anybody ever been bloody by somebody everybody thought was a supplier I spent years under my golden voice of fire.... We busting out from underneath

The Reason

Black Train Jack
Why do you do the things you do That we can't understand Ignore the doubt so we could figure out how to Lend a helping hand I really appreciate your concern For my well being But step aside and I'll show you that I'm wise To the things that are said of me You can't hear it You can't see it But that's my reason Get a job and don't be a slob Try to be a responsible man I go to work like any other jerk And I do the best I can I got to make I got to create I got to build with my own two hands I travel around from town to town Making noise in a hardcore band You can't hear it You can't see it But that's my reason I can't stand people telling me What I ought to do I've warned them once before And now I'm telling you You say Sit down have a drink Calm you down enough to think What're the funny clothes about Why don't you let your hair grow out You're getting older act your age To the way you like it change my ways Just cause you don't understand I say No

Who Ya Rollin Wit

METHOD MAN "Tical 0: The Prequel"
[Intro: Method Man] Uh... what's really good? Yo, yo, yo.. [Method Man] It's the unstoppable, over come any obstacle Ya'll know my flavor, pack more punch than Tropical Any mission possible, do what I gots to do Labels gettin' butterfingers, and next they droppin' you You think you know, but you have no idea The Diary of a Meth Man, what's this I hear? Somebody told ya'll, steppin' in shit was good luck? I got the hood stuck, chh-chh, now give the goods up Ya'll done pushed up, past the point of no return It's Meth's turn, so roll that shit up and let's burn I heard Philly got the best 'scherm, out in Cali, they got the best perms Now that we know, when will the rest learn? Come on, each one, teach one, hear no evil, and I don't speak none Everything cool until that heat come Just call my name, and I'll be there Ya'll kids is slum, like the jewelry in Albi Square [Chorus: Streetlife (Shawnna)] We drinkin' Henny til we flip, poppin' bottles til we sick All ya'll haters eat a dick (yeah, uh) Let's throw a party in this bitch, all my niggaz and my chicks Tell me who ya'll rollin' with (yeah) [Hook 2X: Streetlife (Method Man)] Method spits fire (Fire!) The roof's on (Fire!) My crew's on (Fire!) [Streetlife] M-E-T, H-O-D.. [Method Man] Man, I'm in the house like foreclosures Talk sober, until some dog gets forced over New York soldiers, be at ease, fall back Never ever, I'm the New Era, like ball caps Kid, whenever, whoever, whatever, ya'll want it Ya'll can have it, the problem and answer, I'm all that While we at it, let's tighten up our grips around that cabbage Silly rabbit, how many kid's done tricked you on your carrots The product of a bad package, like Bishop Don Juan it's Magic How I break 'em like a bad habit, hit tracks like it's target practice Then let these darts take a stab at it Niggaz ain't got it, ain't never had it I jam like L.A. traffic, Jellyroll behind the wheel And the passenger seat behind the field It's your boy, physically fit, mentally sick Get dirty money, told you honey, I'm filthy rich [Chorus] [Hook 2X w/o 'fire' the second time] [Interlude: Method Man] Yeah, ya'll niggaz don't know it's a game Until it starts again, let's do it, haha! [Method Man] Six minutes, Method Man, you're on If you thinkin' you gon' slip and be alright, you're wrong You can see me lightin' the bong, while writin' the songs That the crowd, is either singin' to or fightin' along, fightin' along I'm try'nna tell you drugs is not your friends And girlfriend, don't try and front like you got your friend I'm at the hotel, motel, Holiday Inn And my chick's a man-eater, she be swallowin' men Aight, live from New York, it's Saturday night I got pipes that drain your confidence, and battery light Aight, mami tight, but she ain't really my type If ya'll don't see me treat her right, then she ain't really my wife When I was young, I was stayin' in school, obeyin' rules Play with my food, what makes you think I'm playin' with you? This is it, ya'll better come on in, the water's fine Jump on in, let's do it to 'em one more 'gain [Chorus] [Hook 2X] [Chorus] [Outro: Method Man] Yeah, Ladies Love Big John Studd No doubt, dick up in your mouth We do this shit everyday, I'm in the cut With my main shit stain, Ray-Ray Gutter Butt And we holdin' it down for the whole Staten Island, man Nothin' else but Staten Island, man Ya'll stand up, man, Stapleton, the Wild West, Park Hill Port Richmond, Now Born, Jungle Nilz, hah... Peace!

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