The right to sing, The right to play, The right to do the things I feel in my own way, And if you took it all and asked me to pretend, You'd be breaking
it up and do it again Get it right next time Back to the magic Leaving all your troubles behind Back to the magic Live it up and do it again Get it right
bay-BEE! Verse Two: Puff Daddy I was in one bedroom, dreamin of a million (yeah) Now I'm in beach houses, cream to the ceiling (that's right) I was
When a blue bird he began to sing You could hear John Henry from a mile or more You could hear John Henry's hammer ring, Lord, Lord You can hear John
It's funny how you sound as if you're right next door when you're really half a world away I just can't seem to find the words I'm looking for to say
an asshole) I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole) Maybe I shouldn't be singing this song Ranting and raving and carrying on Maybe they're right
angel Yeah, yeah, Angel of Harlem Angel Angel of Harlem Angel Angel of Harlem Angel Angel of Harlem Angel Angel of Harlem All right, that's all right, that's all right
a few miles right outside of town billy caused a 'oh mine/my(? ) papa' in the earth's crust, right over the secret underground dumps, right near the jack
23 Pick-up trucks and trailers and cars of every kind With the Bailey Brother's John Deere draggin up behind Roll on down Poor Valley turn right at Fisher
Lucy, kill me John (?) Lucy, sing a song (Ah), dig it up (Ah), live it up (Ah), live it up (Ah), give it up, up ,up Look out! I got a reefer headed woman She fell right
daddy was a steel driving man So every Monday morning When the blue dirds begin to sing You can hear John Henry a mile or more You can hear John Henry
