. . .
|
|
I don't wanna waste your time
With music you don't need
Why should I autograph the book
That you won't even read
I've got a different scar for every song
And blood left still to bleed
But I don't wanna waste your time
With music you don't need
I don't wanna waste good wine
If you won't stick around
I love to laugh but I'm more than just
Your alcoholic clown
I won't pray this prayer with you
Unless we both kneel down
I don't wanna waste good wine
If you won't stick around
Come on lighten up
Let me fill your cup
I'm just trying to imagine a situation
Where we might have a real conversation
But I don't wanna waste the words
That you don't seem to need
When it comes to wanting what's real
There's no such thing as greed
I hope this night puts down deep roots
I hope we plant a seed
'Cause I don't wanna waste your time
With music you don't need
. . .
|
|
If you came to make some trouble
Better make it good
Your sexy cocktail hour stubble
Is doing what it should
Looks may be sweet and subtle
I think it's trouble honey
I think it's good
If you came to make trouble
Make me a double honey
I think it's good
Novices have expectations
'Cause they think they should
Experts have their revelations
Like they knew they would
What may seem complicated
Is overstated downright misunderstood
Love will not be outdated
Maybe placated but it's got to be good
We're so precarious with semantics
I think this could be trouble
I think it's trouble honey
I think it's good
If you came to make trouble
Make me a double honey
I think it's good
What may seem complicated
Is overstated downright misunderstood
Love will not be outdated
Maybe placated but it's got to be good
We're far too serious
I think we could be
Such nefarious pyromantics
I think this could be trouble
I think it's trouble honey
I think it's good
If you came to make trouble
Make me a double honey
I think it's good
I think it's good
I think it's good
I think it's good
I think it's good
I said, 'I think it's good'
Yeah, I think it's good
I think it's good
. . .
|
|
Black flamenco shoes
Dahlias in my hair
Garters on my stockings
The sidewalk bends to stare
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
Ambition may be blind
Diamonds come from coal
You provide the rhythm babe
And I'll provide the soul
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
This oyster is my world
My oyster's got a pearl
This ain't no dress rehearsal
I'm a very lucky girl
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
Tastes sweet on my lips
Tender on my tongue
All the road's ahead of me
Oh the night is young
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
Just like I oughta
I'm on a roll
I can't be bothered
I'm on a roll
I want the whole enchilada
I'm on a roll
Baby's got his bullhorn
Confetti's in the air
We're shakin' up Show Ponies
'Cause we haven't got a care
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
I'm on a roll
Just like I oughta
I'm on a roll
I can't be bothered
I'm on a roll
Cincinnati to Ensenada
I'm on a roll
From the thrift store to Prada
I'm on a roll
La de dah dah de dah dah
I'm on a roll
La la la dah de dah dah
I'm on a roll
. . .
|
|
We'd wake the dead
With voices in our head
We've gotten used to ignoring the truth
We close our eyes
And breathe and eat the lies
That tell us we're so much better than you
Silence is loud
Humility is so proud
Nothing is innocent now
All the king's men
Will serve scrambled eggs again
When white-washed walls come crashing down
We'll blink and nod
And say, How odd
And wonder why old friends don't come around
Silence is loud
Humility is so proud
Nothing is innocent now
The acid rain
We fear the pain
Will blister and burn the skin
But what is more
The fear we bore
Will eat us alive from within
Silence is loud
Humility is so proud
Nothing is innocent now
For you and me
In the land of the free
Nothing is innocent now
Nothing is innocent now
Nothing is innocent now
. . .
|
|
The trumpet child will blow his horn
Will blast the sky till it's reborn
With Gabriel's power and Satchmo's grace
He will surprise the human race
The trumpet he will use to blow
Is being fashioned out of fire
The mouthpiece is a glowing coal
The bell a burst of wild desire
The trumpet child will riff on love
Thelonious notes from up above
He'll improvise a kingdom come
Accompanied by a different drum
The trumpet child will banquet here
Until the lost are truly found
A thousand days, a thousand years
Nobody knows for sure how long
The rich forget about their gold
The meek and mild are strangely bold
A lion lies beside a lamb
And licks a murderer's outstretched hand
The trumpet child will lift a glass
His bride now leaning in at last
His final aim to fill with joy
The earth that man all but destroyed
. . .
|
|
I've been entertaining thoughts
Of what I wanna say to you
I've been entertaining thoughts
Of what I'm gonna do
I've been saving what I got
And wondering who to give it to
I've been entertaining thoughts all over you
The way this works is so mysterious
If it gets much worse it's called delirious
If I were mad I would be furious
But this could be so much more than
Just another euphemism for...
I've been entertaining thoughts
Of what I wanna say to you
I've been entertaining thoughts
Of what I'm gonna do
I've been saving what I got
And wondering who to give it to
I've been entertaining thoughts all over you
You smoke your cigarette
And wonder if it's happened yet
The heavens slowly part and you ascend
I wish that I could say that I'll have no regrets
But I may have one or two
Or three or four more than you...
You will never even know
Till it hits you fool
Ooh, but I'm entertaining thoughts all over
I'm entertaining thoughts
All over you
. . .
|
|
Walk into the room with that curious grin
Ain't nobody need to know the actual shape I'm in
But oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
Call you on the phone, I got nothin' to say
Put my lips a little closer and stand there anyway
'Cause oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
But oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
I hang from my desire
Like a rope swing from a tree
I kick a little higher
Singin' I Shall Be Released
But oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
Oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
Ooh, ooh, ooh
The devil's in the details
Call you on the phone, I got nothin' to say
Put my lips a little closer and stand there anyway
'Cause oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
You smell like sweet magnolias
And Pentecostal residue
I'd like to get to know ya
And shake the holy fire right out of you
But oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
Oh, who'm I kiddin' but me
Ooh, ooh, ooh
The devil's in the details
The devil's in the details
The devil's in the details
. . .
|
|
Let's spend the day in bed
Yeah that's what I said
Let's lie down draw the shades
Ditch the plans we made
Rest your lovely bones
And just stay home
Turn off the telephone
Picnic on the sheets
Toss the dogs some treats
Rub each other's feet
We're not ashamed
Of a little lazy love
Till we're through
I'm gonna spend the day in bed with you
Let's spend the day in bed
On our very own bed spread
A pajama holiday
Catch a black and white matinee
Spoon-feed these new daydreams
And just stay home
We'll read Shel Silverstein
Where The Sidewalk Ends
Smile about old friends
Try to comprehend
One single day
No work and only play
Kick off your shoes
I'm gonna spend the day in bed with you
When life's a drag we'll get stoned on love
Stoned on love
Just stay home
We'll get stoned on love
Get stoned on love
We need a groove that's all our own
And we'll get stoned
Just stay home
We'll get stoned on love
Stoned on love
Till we're through
I'm gonna spend the day in bed with you
Let's spend the day in bed
Forget all that I said
We'll eat your favorite pie
Ice cream on the side
Lie here a la mode
And just stay home
Just stay home
Just stay home
When life's a drag we'll get stoned on love
Stoned on love
Just stay home
We'll get stoned on love
Get stoned on love
We need a groove that's all our own
And we'll get stoned
Just stay home
We'll get stoned on love
Stoned on love
When life's a drag we'll get stoned on love
Stoned on love
Just stay home
We'll get stoned on love
Get stoned on love
We need a groove that's all our own
And we'll get stoned
Just stay home
We'll get stoned on love
Stoned on love
Just stay home
. . .
|
|
Are you feelin'
A little desperate
Get on your knees
And confess it
Honey please
Don't second guess it
You're desperate
For love
Is this just
A little fling
Or is it about
A little bling bling
Either way
You feel the sting sting
You're desperate
For love
It might only take a kiss
For the plot to take a twist
That you hadn't counted on
Just a tiny little minute
But eternity will be in it
If you turn me on
Red wine on my lips
Got this black silk slip on my hips
The kitchen faucet just drips and drips
You're desperate for love
Oh, it's ridiculous and sublime
It's a poem, but don't know which rhyme
But this could be your once upon a time
You're desperate for love
You're desperate for love
You're desperate for love
. . .
|
|
He's got the hands of a blind piano player
He's got a feel for the dark like a soothsayer
He takes a little bow and tips his fedora
Shouts like he's gonna save Sodom and Gomorrah
Workin' for the circus X railroad bum
Carnival barker for kingdom dot come
Dusty ol' Gibson opposable thumb
Bangs out the rhythm on a 50-gallon drum
Don't wait for Tom
Tom's long gone
He's already moved on
Don't wait for Tom
I saw an ol' '55 Buick
Just before dawn
I said, Hey, hey Tom
The sun's comin' up
You got your wipers on
Are you tryna make it rain again?
Are you tryna make it rain again?
Is it rainin' just around your bend?
Are you tryna make it rain again?
Sittin' in a corner with his pet muskrat
Tossin' his cards into an old man's hat
He grins at the girls and they always grin back
He bets an old waltz he could get 'em in the sack
He makes his own music from the bell of a 'bone
A waitress's falsie and a railroad phone
Bobs on his knees to an old tarantella
South of the border he stole it from a fella
Don't wait for Tom
Tom's long gone
He's already moved on
Don't wait for Tom
I saw an ol' '55 Buick
Just before dawn
I said, Hey, hey Tom
The sun's comin' up
You got your wipers on
Are you tryna make it rain again?
Are you tryna make it rain again?
Is it rainin' just around your bend?
Are you tryna make it rain again?
His triple-jointed juke fingers splay like a scarecrow
He kneels down and whistles to a fallen sparrow
His eyes light up when they wheel in a piano
He reads a dirty joke out of an old Baptist hymnal
He wears a tuxedo made of sackcloth and ashes
Has a tattoo of a girl who can bat her eyelashes
Down on the river he was fishin' with a sword
He knocked off John the Baptist for a word from the Lord
He takes his coffee with the blood of a turnip
Blushes his cheeks with an Amsterdam tulip
Choppin' up a rooster for a pullet surprise
If the gravy don't getcha he'll getcha with his eyes
Don't wait
Hey Tom
The sun's comin' up
You got your wipers on
Don't wait for Tom
The sun's comin' up
You got your wipers on
Hey Tom
. . .
|
|
If a song could be president
We'd hum on Election Day
The gospel choir would start to sway
And we'd all have a part to play
The first lady would free her hips
Pull a microphone to her lips
Break our hearts with Rhythm and Blues
Steve Earle would anchor the news
We'd vote for a melody
Pass it around on an MP3
All our best foreign policy
Would be built on harmony
If a song could be president
We'd fly a jukebox to the moon
All our founding fathers' 45's
Lightnin' Hopkins and Patsy Cline
If a song could be president
If a song could be president
We could all add another verse
Life would teach us to rehearse
Till we found a key change
Break out of this minor key
Half-truths and hypocrisy
We wouldn't need an underachiever-in-chief
If a song could be president
We'd make Neil Young a Senator
Even though he came from Canada
Emmylou would be Ambassador
World leaders would listen to her
They would show us where our country went wrong
Strum their guitars on the White House lawn
John Prine would run the FBI
All the criminals would laugh and cry
If a song could be president
. . .
|
Switch to English 
