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BEE GEES lyrics - Odessa

Marly Purt Drive

Original and similar lyrics
Sunday morning, woke up yawning; filled the pool for a swim. Pulled down the head and looked in the glass just to see if I was in. Went up the stairs and kissed my women to make her come alive. 'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids , I got to go for a Sunday drive. That's how they are, so I grabbed out the car;convertible fifty-nine. Headed for the freeway; tried to find the Pasadena sign. Ten miles and three quarters more I wasn't feeling any more alive. 'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. I used to be a minstrel free with a whole lot of bread in my bag. I used to feel that my life was real, but the good Lord threw me a snag. Now I'm gonna be the same as me ,no matter how I try. 'Cause with fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. Fifteen kids and a fam'ly on the skids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. Turned 'round the car and headed for home; I guess I realized my fate. Ten miles and three quarters more I pulled up outside the gate. Twenty more kids were stood inside and that made thirty-five. 'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids, I got to go for a Sunday drive. An orphanage full of thirty-five kids , I got to go for a Sunday drive. Sunday morning woke up yawning; filled the pool for a swim. Pulled down the glass and looked in the mirror just to see if I was in . Went up the stairs and kissed my women to make her come alive. 'Cause with an orphanage full of thirty-five kids , I got to go for a Sunday drive. And orphanage full of thirty-five kids, I got to go for a Sunday drive.

Sunday Drive

ALABAMA "In Pictures"
Well this ain't No Sunday drive Got the tach Redlined Throttle opened wide (Gentlemen start your engines) Got all new Diagnostic-tuned Polished, shined Lookin' like new This car will blow Your mind And your door Right off Rotated tires Balanced, aligned Highest octane Money can buy She looks like She's flyin' when She's sittin' at a stop Your grocery-getting' Garbage Is nothing Next to mine This ain't Your Sunday drive Got the tach Redlined Throttle opened wide Gonna kill a lot of bugs, Pass a lot of poles Burn a little rubber Down a blacktop road Better be able To bury that needle your pinkslip's On the line This ain't no Sunday drive Ole mark, set, Ready,fly Be waitin' At the finish Hand your keys tol my baby And don't ask For a ride This ain't no Sunday drive (Naw it ain't, son!) This ain't Your Sunday drive Got the tach Redlined Throttle opened wide Gonna kill a lot of bugs, Pass a lot of poles Burn a little rubber Down a blacktop road Better be able To bury that needle Your pinkslip's on the line This ain't no Sunday drive This ain't no Sunday drive (Overdrive) (Overdrive) (Overdrive) This ain't no Sunday drive

Sprawl I (Flatland)

ARCADE FIRE "The Suburbs"
Took a drive into the sprawl To find the house where we used to stay Couldn't read the number in the dark You said let's save it for another day Took a drive into the sprawl To find the places we used to play It was the loneliest day of my life You're talking at me but I'm still far away Let's take a drive Through the sprawl Through these towns they built to change Then you said, the emotions are dead It's no wonder that you feel so strange Cops shone their lights On the reflectors of our bikes Said, do you kids know what time it is? Well sir, it's the first time I've felt like something is mine Like I have something to give The last defender of the sprawl Said, well where do you kids live? Well sir, if you only knew What the answer is worth Been searching every corner Of the earth

Every Other Friday At Five

TRACE ADKINS "More"
One out of two ain't gonna make it Those are the odds these days And in a world of statistics He's left tryin' to survive 'Til every other Friday at five He counts the days and then the hours 'Til he can hold his babies in his arms And they'll be watchin' out the window When he pulls up in the drive On every other Friday at five For forty-eight hours they're with him again But on Sunday afternoon he's out of time Some folks call him a deserter but his kids know he'll arrive On every other Friday at five So let's not put 'em in the middle And play tug-of-war with their little hearts But let mamas and daddies Smile hello and wave goodbye On every other Friday at five For forty-eight hours they're with him again But on Sunday afternoon he's out of time Some folks call him a deserter but his kids know he'll arrive On every other Friday at five And they'll be watchin' out the window When he pulls up in the drive On every other Friday at five

The Kids

JAMIROQUAI "The Return Of The Space Cowboy"
Now we're getting nasty. Everybody's talking about the kids The kids got funky soul and groove emotion But if you don't give the kids the chance to use it They're always morethan likely to abuse it Everybody's talking about the kids It's taking time for you to realise Now hunger turns to anger in our eyes I say the revolution will be televised Yes it will, Gil Everybody's talking about the kids The kids needs space to get their heads in place And every day this world we have to face I just can't seem to find my proper place. Kids get down Stormy weather Fifteen years of royal pleasure Kids get down underground Everybody dance to the funky sound. Everybody's talking about the kids It won't be long before we get our own And every kid can truly feel at home I told ya you should give the dog a bone Everybody's talking about school But I get more pleasure breakin' all the rules Cos lesson one begins with 'Life Is Cruel' Well I guess I'm just an educated fool Everybody's talking about the kids Mom and Dad make efforts to excuse it Government officials will confuse it Members of the bench will try to prove it You're going down sucker. Everybody's talking about the kids now Everybody's talking about the kids now The kids got funky soul. Kids get down Stormy weather Fifteen years of royal pleasure Kids get down, celebrate Now we're going to kick the thing we hate Everybody's talking about high But kids get high to satisfy For reaching out to touch the sky Is all I can identify, and you know why. Kids get down Stormy weather Fifteen years of royal pleasure Kids get down, celebrate Now we're gonna kick the thing we hate Kids get down, pressurized To live the life that you devised Kids get, celebrate Life's too short to complicate.

Cats Van Bags

ATMOSPHERE "Seven's Travels"
[Intro] I can't scratch, cause I'm drunk I got bad teeth and my gums are bleeding Come and fucking get me, motherfucker Yeah, break, start the song now, fucker [Verse 1] [Slug] We travelin the missle, weavin' through your cornfields Leavin behind a trail of amature porn and orange peels Navagatin through this basement, the masquerades As our nation, practicin' my acid take, masturbation Watchin the expressions on the faces Of the ones designated to be the queens, kings, and aces How many miles can you put on one soul Before the smile starts to blend into one big bullet hole [Brother Ali] Shoot through it as a union, with the best of my crew Bumpin melodies and memories too, my heads killin me, ohh Stomach empty, my bladder is full Two years old son on Jay Birds phone Cryin, ya missin me And I'm stallin', I'll bite ya arm off Sabertooth Tiger, run the night with the sharp claws In ya backyard just to fuck with ya guard dog Throw a brick through your shit and cut the alarm off Bitch [Slug] Fuck yes, I do my best to take advantage in bouts With one hand over the mouth, still managin' to shout Theres more said, then in the lines in your forehead Then could ever try to find print on the inside of that warhead Cross country, like a little lost junky Make them hot and jumpy, trying to get that God money Stearin the van through the blizzards, the fanfare Pivit when we visit, spit victim if you stand there [Brother Ali] Take a map of this picture, throw a dart at it, thats where We took a room back full the kids and threw a heart at it Angry like a hostage, Kickin like a little bitch in one of Dibs's mosh pits Shifitin through your city limits tryin to find the raw shit Thread and needle wit it, and weave a world of hate together, till we get 'em car sick Face full of war paint, strapped ready for action Battle cracks headin, trying to seek the satisfaction of the captain [Slug] Climbed over the side, closed his eyes Took a dive into his fame, inspiration for stayin alive Swam to the shore, stepped upon land Walked up to a whore, grabbed her by the hand And said [Chorus] [Slug & Brother Ali] Let the wheels spin, let the road shake Let the speakers blow Let the line in, let the kids play Let the people know Let the roof burn, let the girls love Let the heat flow Let the world turn, let the curtains up Cats Van Bags, Yo [Verse 2] [Brother Ali] Lock eyes, with a thousand people at the same time They minds, believin this, my style of graffiti is Squeezin this, the mid west, sweat out of my shirt And leavin with my life essence embedded in ya dirt [Slug] We work, move, and hustle with the rest of the Gypsies Spoon feed these issues to a new school of Fishes Swimmin through a hazy shade of passion Here they come, the Hazleton has-been, and his chaplin [Brother Ali] Thats them, the migrants, seasonal workers The finest imperial wordsmiths on the circuit Two Million smiles and runnin, stompin', trying to flee the heat Turn around, shootin at the monster till his knees are weak [Slug] They call me Jesus Freak, I came to listen Then I save you, then I make you, my favorite position Chasin' this pigeon down the street towards the banks Just in case, my traffic receives jeeps and tanks [Bridge] [Slug] And we wonder through the snow(?), so let it be known Mama I don't know if I'ma ever be home The revolution wont have any distribution I love my son and my music so I gotta keep it movin' Like [Chorus] [Slug & Brother Ali] Let the wheels spin, let the road shake Let the speakers blow Let the line in, let the kids play Let the people know Let the roof burn, let the girls love Let the heat flow Let the world turn, let the curtains up Cats Van Bags, Yo

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