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Marianne Faithfull

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fox69

fox69

MODERATOR
Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
Poruka
29.698
"Yesterdays"

"Yesterdays"


Yesterdays, yesterdays,
Days I knew as happy sweet sequestered days.
Olden days, golden days,
Days of mad romance and love.

Then gay youth was mine
Truth was mine
Joyous free and flaming life
Then truth was mine
Sad am i, glad am i,
For today I'm dreaming of
Yesterdays.

Yesterdays, yesterdays,

Days I knew as happy sweet sequestered days.
Golden days, olden days,
Days of mad romance and love.

Then gay youth was mine
Truth was mine
Joyous free and flaming life
Then truth was mine
Sad am i, glad am i,
For today I'm dreaming of
Yesterdays.
 
fox69

fox69

MODERATOR
Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
Poruka
29.698
"You Can't Go Where The Roses Go"

"You Can't Go Where The Roses Go"


Today I saw the roses die,
The ones that we picked out.
And I turned around to cry,
I could not help myself.

I know where the roses go
Who do what they should do,
And baby, you won't go where the roses go
If you can't be true.

Today I saw the roses die,
The ones that we picked out.
As I stood there I could see
I could not help them now.

I know where the roses go
Who do what they should do,
And baby, you won't go where the roses go
If you can't be true.

Don't you want to walk where the flowers play

Beneath the sky of gold,
Where the little white doves fly by the hour
Singing our love will never grow cold?

Oh, today I saw the roses die,
The ones that we picked out.
And I hoped that you could tell
What it was all about.

I know where the roses go
Who do what they should do,
And baby, you won't go where the roses go
If you can't be true.

You won't go there
If you can't be true.
You can't go there
If you can't be true.
You won't go there
If you can't be true...
 
fox69

fox69

MODERATOR
Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
Poruka
29.698
"Young Girl Blues"

"Young Girl Blues"


It's saturday night, it feels like a sunday in some ways.
If I had any sense I'd maybe go away for a few days.
Be that as it may, I can only say I am lonely,
I am but a young girl, working my way through the phonies.

Coffee on, milk gone, a sad light by fading,
Myself I touch, but not too much, I hear it's degrading.

The flowers on my stockings are wilting away in the midnight.
The book I am reading is one man's opinion of moonlight.
My skin is so white, I'd like maybe to go to bed soon,
Closing my eyes, if I'm to rise up before noon.

High heels, car wheels, the losers are grooving.

My dream, strange seem images are moving.

My friends, they are making a pop star or two every evening.
I know that scene backwards, they can't see the patterns they're weaving.
My friends they are models but I soon got over that one.
I sit in my one room, a little brought-down in london.

Coffee on, milk gone, a sad light by fading,
Myself I touch, but not too much, I hear it's degrading.

La la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
La la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
La la la la, la la la la la...
 
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