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RICK SPRINGFIELD lyrics - Living In Oz

Souls

Original and similar lyrics
(Springfield) It all started here, she was a girl form the midwest He was a stranger in a strange land Same old story He came for the glory She came looking for a young man's hand But they found bright lights And endless nights And men just used her innocent ways He found it all so pretty, hypnotized by the city They lost sight of the reason They lost count of the days And they were two souls searching for each other One spirit looking for the other Caught between a hard hard place and a rock Two souls searching for heaven Rolling the dice looking for a seven To the tick, tick, ticking of time Gotta beat the clock Too many nights on the ledge He acquired a knife-edge Still the city didn't acquiesce to his demands Some nights she cried for pity in the heart of the city The city smacked her hands He met her on endless night Her eyes had a light There was something familiar about the smell of her skin He held her tighter and tighter As he danced inside her She know from the moment that she let him in They'd been two souls searching for each other One spirit looking for the other Caught between a hard hard place and a rock Two souls searching for heaven Rolling the dice looking for a seven To the tick, tick, ticking of time Gotta beat the clock Beat the clock Beat the clock Beat the clock Two souls searching for each other One spirit looking for the other Caught between a hard hard place and a rock Two souls searching for heaven Rolling the dice looking for a seven To the tick, tick, ticking of time Gotta beat the clock

The Quest

Attica Blues "Test don't test"
I am I am searching I am searching for faith, beauty and hip-hop I am searching for all those who died between hip hop and heaven And all souls set adrift and free from bedlam With headstrong lyrics that rise like smoke from silver incense burners I wonder who stole the thunder with the rasping edge And who banged for baptisms with butterflies, serpentine roads and sunsets broken by cicadas Have we really lost our century in an hour? Are we devoured by blind faith in the powers that be? Are these words as tense as drawn bow strings? Shall we rebuild the tears like sap from rubber trees? Answer me! Answer me you T.S. Elliots in goose down jackets with your felt tip urban hieroglyphs, spliff smoke, and spray paint Answer me you soliloquists with clenched fists 'round the mike Answer me you angels in adidas Tell me Do M.C.'s still howl rhymes into the purple black of midnight? Do they still fight to make arrangements with deities courting them with a jangle of gold and silver bangles on their wrist? I need yearning voices of mangled passion I need rehearsed create those style of faith and fashion I'm searching for hip-hop beats, stomping feet to implore the ? ? ringing across the seagulls to muffle the sun I'm searching for perfumed cherry blossoms and ? You see there will be no toast to the future in the banquet table of ? No golden petals weaving a carpet of light No hint of arrogance on puckered lips No wind-swept islands and dreams of sun-lit silence No riot of flowers and beauty magnified through outmost attention And no free-style incantations to save the souls of man I'm peeling off your straitjacket so you feel the sun my friend I want wings, a feather, and booms so we can fly like birds to better lands I'm wondering I'm wondering how temples are now smokestacks I'm up all night in silvery moonlight with palms of ?? Who stole my afro-pick? Who licked my fingertips to sooth scratches from the vinyl groove? Has anybody seen faith, beauty and hip hop? I have to find faith, beauty and Hip hop

Brand New Beat

MADNESS "Keep Moving"
More leverage was passed today From the radio I heard him say I fixed another lock on my toilet door House to house checks will commence throughout Looking at my prize possessions Trying to remember which ones I own I could be up for a week's detention Without a line I could die in there Another law was passed today Cut price bullets in your hardware store And to pass your time of stay Life size cutouts are your target score Throwing open the windows And screaming down the street Eight o'clock and all is well Until the brand new beat Can you smell the brand new beat Star shaped badge that shines upon Comes free in your bumper pack But if it's left around too long It'll burn right through to your back Throwing open the windows And screaming down the street Eight o'clock and all is well Until the brand new beat Can you smell the brand new beat Shipped direct via the Isle of Man The money maker shows his face He breeds his fear across the land Then casts off without a trace Eight o'clock and all is well Until the brand new beat You can smell the brand new beat Can you hear the brand new beat You can hear the brand new beat Can you smell the brand new beat

Old Folks

JOHN DENVER "Whose Garden Was This?"
The old folks don't talk much They talk so slowly when they do They are rich they are poor Their illusions are gone They share one heart for two Their homes all smell of time Of old photographs And an old fashioned song Though you may live in town You live so far away When you've lived too long Have they laughed too much Do their dry voices crack Talking of things gone by Have they cried too much A tear or two still always seems To cloud the eye They tremble as they watch the old silver clock When day is through Tick tock oh so slow It says yes it says no It says I wait for you The old folks dream no more Their books have gone to sleep The piano's out of tune The little cat is dead And no more do they sing on a sunday afternoon The old folks move no more Their world become to small Their bodies feel like lead They might look out a window Or else sit it a chair Or else they stay in bed And if they still go out Arm in arm, arm in arm In the morning chill Its to have a good cry To say their last goodbye To one who's older still And then they go home To the old silver clock When day is through Tick tock so so slow It says yes it says no It says I wait for you The old folks never die They just put down their heads And go to sleep one day They will hold each others hands Like children in the dark But one will get lost anyway And the other will remain Just sitting in a room Which makes no sound It doesn't matter now The song has died away And echo's all around You'll see them as they walk Through the sun filled parks Where children run and play It hurst to much to smile It hurts so much But life goes on for still another day As they try to escape the old silver clock When day is through Tick tock oh so slow It says yes it says no It says I wait for you The old old silver clock Thats hanging on the wall That waits for us all

Get This Low

JEDI MIND TRICKS "The Psycho-Social, Chemical, Biological, And Electro-Magnetic Manipulation ..."
[Chorus: samples] "I'ma get deep like Jacques Cousteau" [ODB] "Jacques Cousteau could never get this low, ahh" [x3] [GZA] "And I'ma get mad deep like a threat!" [Verse 1] No where to go and I be flowing, try to flow and then before Back in the day when I was cool, I couldn't afford to be a guru On ya case like your lawyer, think you run, you mistaken Put all records to the side, and it's ya face I'm fuckin' breaking Awaken and await, and take the shit like amoebas I'm rollin' with stowin' Tim, gas rack, that's where the heaters We just wreckin', what the fuck was you expectin' from a minor Put a bullet through ya chest, and see who next to rap behind ya Straight up and down, y'all a sermon and blew it I half niggaz wildin', as if they smokin' a gallon of embalmin' fluid Drillin' and wanna be fit, like something shrimp on the barbie I do my dirt up in Philly, chill in the hills, where other gods guard me Thinkin' that's going thru my hood, like I chew it Comin' in with this other pussy, I smoke ya then rejuice ya Crucify ya, I fuckin' rhyme ya, now I'ma fuckin' shoot ya My bone is hard as stone, cause I got blowjob from Medusa [Chorus] [Verse 2] The beat addict, I'm crushin' MC's who cause static Pen tips the pad, I touch stars in the attic The dopest that wrote this, when suckas provoke this Now it's the time for perpetrators to quote this Rhyme that I wrote for heads to get loose to I blow up spots like snots in a tissue I dissed you, dismissed, but suckas persist to Bite my flow, so now you know -- That when I rip up a set, I get mad deep Don't sleep, or you and ya whole crew can get beat As I'm waxin', taxin', a dope reaction Bitches who front, get reduced like fractions So ya motherfuckin' flex to vex, whose next in line To recline, and steal my lines, so check it Now the man ya facin', ya rhymes I'm erasin' If you drip or get slipped, I convict like Perry Mason [Chorus x2] [Verse 3] Meet ya makers, ya fakers and immitators I'm greater cause I do my best work on paper Mad raps, raps the disaster from the masters Snatchin' up rappers, and takin' out actors He can test, skippin' yet, don't pass the limit You finished, so save the Die Hard image for Bruce Willis Ya raps are a joke, but I put dope from start Transform with the art, rippin' ya fuckin' mics apart This is the rawest of words of you ever heard My rap style superb, gettin' nursed in the curb It can't compete with the man when I freak it The crew will get beat quick, so stay in ya seat bitch Rhymes I wreck or perfect, and correct lyrically Too complex, who ya punks to step Yo, I be rhymin' hits whenever it's time to flip quick A writer's block non-stop, and I'ma get - [Chorus]

Time To Dance

THE JEZABELS "The Brink"
Great cup, I love that had me Maybe that could bring my passion back What's that? I stumbled on A careful line on my track. Wa-oh One time, moment is madness, The thrill of it was all I saw But suns rise and the shift Of the tides and the glory days were no more When you work so hard, Say what's the point in having all that gas? When you work so hard, Say what's the point in doing all that jazz? You say, I need help cause I'm dreaming too much cause I'm drifting with my mental health Well good luck with the natives on back but I think we might want something else When you work so hard, Say what's the point in having all that gas? When you work so hard, Say what's the point in doing all that jazz? And you cry your eyes out Hey come on baby, where's a second chance And you cry your eyes out, Hey come on tell me when it's time to dance? The beat goes on, the streets go cold You can't go home. Try the people, The beat goes on. And on,the big bad world, You can't go home, the streets go cold. Alone, you try the people but the beat goes on. Can you tell me when it's time to dance? Someday I'll love what I can find in you I'll need some kind of love, what does it do? Hey come on baby, let your hair down I'll need to find some kind of love

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