I’m going up the country. Baby, don’t you wanna go? I’m going up the country. Baby, don’t you wanna go? I’m going to some place where I’ve never been before. I’m going, I’m going where the water tastes like wine. I’m going where the water tastes like wine. We can jump in the water, stay drunk all the time.
Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine. When you gonna let me get sober? Leave me alone, let me go home, let me go home and start over.
Come on…come on…take a little piece of my heart, baby.
Come on Eileen! Well, I swear (what he means) at this moment, you mean everything. With you in that dress, my thoughts I confess verge on dirty …
Ah, come on Eileen!
This magic moment when your lips are close to mine, will last forever, forever 'til the end of time.
So I’m sitting on the dock of the bay. Watching the tide roll away.
Just don’t go wasting away in marguritaville, searching for your lost shaker of salt.
Oh lord, searching…mm child…searching every which way. Yeah yeah, gonna find her!
She loves you, and you know that can’t be bad. She loves you, and you know you should be glad. She loves you yeah yeah yeah.
I know I’m searching for something – something so undefined that it can only be seen by the eyes of the blind.
Well, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.
Looking for love in all the wrong places. Looking for love in too many faces, searching your eyes, looking for traces, of what… I’m dreaming of…
Faded photograph, covered now with lines and creases. Tickets torn in half, memories in bits and pieces. Traces of love, long ago that didn’t work out right. Traces of love.
Memories… like the corners of my mind. Misty watercolored memories… of the way we were.
If you hear him howling around your kitchen door, better not let him in. Little old lady got mutilated late last night, werewolves of London again.
Closed at the request of the OP.
Cajun Man
for the SDMB