|
recebi o teu bilhete
para ir ter ao jardim
a tua caixa de segredos
queres abri-la para mim
e tu nao vais fraquejar
ninguem vai saber de nada
juro nao me vou gabar
a minha boca e sagrada
estar mesmo atras de ti
ver-te da minha carteira
sei de cor o teu cabelo
sei o shampoo a que xeira
ja nao como, ja nao durmo
e eu caia se te minto
havera gente informada
se e amor isto que sinto
quero o meu pirmeiro beijo
nao quero ficar impune
e dizer-te cara a cara
muito mais e o que nos une
que aquilo que nos separa
promete la outro e
|
(Deana Carter)
Eddie's got a way of looking at the world through rose-colored glasses
He's got a little of the Midas touch when it comes to mystery
Never ever gonna show his cards, that's just the way things are
And I won't let go of Eddie for anything
I met him at the 76 on my way to California
I was paying for my lottery ticket and a can of ice-cold beer
He was out of cigarettes, now we're calling off all bets
And I won't let go of Eddie for anything
I've got this feeling
I've got a real good feeling
Eddie's gonna get that jog in South Calabasas
We'll
|
Welcome my son,
Welcome to the machine.
Where have you been ?
It's alright,
We know where you've been.
You've been in the pipeline,
Filling in time.
Provided with toys and 'Scouting for Boys'.
You bought a guitar, To punish your ma,
And you didn't like school,
And you know you're nobody's fool.
So welcome to the machine.
Welcome my son,
Welcome to the machine.
What did you dream ? It's alright,
We told you what to dream.
You dreamed of a big star,
He played a mean guitar.
He always ate in the steak bar.
He loved to drive in hi
|
They were duelin', Doolin-Dalton
High or low, it was the same
Easy money and faithless women
Red-eye whiskey for the pain
Go down, Bill Dalton, it must be God's will,
Two brothers lyin' dead in Coffeyville
Two voices call to you from where they stood
Lay down your lay books now
They're no damn good
Better keep on movin', Doolin-Dalton
'Til your shadow sets you free
If you're fast, and if you're lucky
You will never see that hangin' tree
Well, the towns lay out across the dusty plains
Like graveyards filled with tombstones, waitin' for the names
|