and it stoned me to my soul stoned me just like jelly roll and it stoned me and it stoned me to my soul stoned me just like goin' home and it stoned me
itchycoo park
over bridge of sighs to rest my eyes in shades of green under dreaming spires, to Itchycoo Park, that's where i've been
what did you do there? i got high what did you feel there? well i cried but why the tears there? i'll tell you why it's all too beautiful, it's all too beautiful
i feel inclined to blow my mind get hung up, feed the ducks with a bun they all come out to groove about be nice and have fun in the sun i'll tell you what i'll do - what will you do? i'd like to go there now with you you can miss out school - won't that be cool? why go to learn the words of fools?
lay down [candles in the rain] we were so close, there was no room we bled inside each other's wounds we all had caught the same disease and we all sang the songs of peace lay down lay down, lay it all down let your white birds smile at the ones who stand and frown lay down lay down, lay it all down let your white birds smile at the ones who stand and frown so raise candles high 'cause if you don't we could stay black against the night oh raise them higher again and if you do we could stay dry against the rain
lebanese blonde
too low to find my way too high to wonder why i've touched this place before somewhere in another time now i can hear the sun the clouds drifting through the blinds a half a million thoughts are flowing through my mind
a satellite recalled your voice sent me round the world again all the night you've dreamt away sent me round my heart again one touch upon my lips and all my thoughts are clear i feel your smoky mist up to the stratosphere
did you notify my way to hide a wonder why i've touched this place before, so we're in another time now i can hear the sound the clouds drifting through the blinds a half a million thoughts are flowing through my mind
woodstock
i came upon a child of God he was walking along the road and i asked him "tell me where are you going?" this he told me said "i'm going down to Yasgur's farm, gonna join in a rock and roll band got to get back to the land and get my soul free"
we are stardust, we're golden we are two billion year old carbon and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden
can i walk along beside you? i have come here to lose the smog, and i feel like i'm a part of something turning round and round and maybe it's the time of year maybe it's the time of man and i don't know who i am but life is for learning ...
we are stardust, we're golden we are two billion year old carbon and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden
by the time we got to Woodstock we were half a million strong and everywhere was the song and the celebration and i dreamed i saw the bomber jet planes firing shot into the sky turning into butterflies above our nation ...
we are stardust, we're golden we are two billion year old carbon and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden
into the mystic
we were born before the wind also younger than the sun ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic hark, now hear the sailors cry smell the sea and feel the sky let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
and when that fog horn blows i will be coming home and when that fog horn blows i want to hear it i dont have to fear it i want to rock your gypsy soul just like way back in the days of old then magnificently we will float into the mystic and when that fog horn blows you know i will be coming home and when the fog horn whistle blows i got to hear it, i dont have to fear it i want to rock your gypsy soul just like way back in the days of old and together we will float into the mystic come on girl...
the wind cries mary
after all the Jacks are in their boxes and the clowns have all gone to bed you can hear happiness staggering on down the street footprints dressed in red and the wind whispers Mary
a broom is drearily sweeping up the broken pieces of yesterdays life somewhere a queen is weeping somewhere a king has no wife and the wind it cries mary
the traffic lights they turn of blue tomorrow and shine their emptiness down on my bed the tiny island sails downstream cause the life that lived is dead and the wind screams mary
will the wind ever remember the names it has blown in the past? and with this crutch its old age and its wisdom it whispers no, this will be the last and the wind cries mary
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