There’s a six-lane highway down by the creek
Where I went skinny-dippin’ as a child
And a drive-in show where the meadows used to grow
And the strawberries used to grow wild
(Don’t it make you wanna go home?)
(Don’t it make you wanna go home?)
All God’s children get weary when they roam
(Don’t it make you) wanna, wanna go home?
See if the rhyme has reason
Chasing the wind
Look for a change of season
Somewhere to begin
The freeway is my song
Highway nights, red tail lights, lead my love light on
Highway nights, freeway sights, to this eagle I belong
It rolls me on
You offered me an eagle’s wing
That to the sun I might soar and sing
And if I heard the owl’s cry
Into the forest I would fly
And in its darkness find you by.
And so our love’s not a simple thing
Nor our truths unwavering
But like the moon’s pull on the tide
Our fingers touch our hearts collide
I’ll be a moonsbreath from your side
Oh, I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Well, it’s a marvelous night for a moondance
With the stars up above in your eyes
A fantabulous night to make romance
'Neath the cover of October skies
And all the leaves on the trees are falling
To the sound of the breezes that blow
You know, I’m trying to please to the calling
Of your heartstrings that play soft and low
We were dreamers
Only dreamers
And in our haste
To grow too soon
We left our innocence
On Desert Moon
Sing with me, sing it for the year
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tear
Sing with me, if it’s just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away
Dream on, dream on, dream on,
Dream until your dream come true
Sing for the day
Sing for the moment
Sing for the time of your life
Come for an hour
Stay for a moment
Stay for the rest of your life
Hey there, please come and stay with me now
Beneath the ashes of our sky
Beneath the curse that sucks you dry
Almost a prize, I can’t believe it
Right between the eyes
Almost a man, almost master
Almost also-ran
On the way out, out of this world
On a day out, out of this world
The city streets are empty now
(The lights don’t shine no more)
And so the songs are way down low
(Turnin’, turnin’, turnin’)
A sound that flows into my mind
(The echoes of the daylight)
Of everything that is alive
In my blue world
I’m Mr Blue
When you say you love me
(I’m Mr Blue)
Then prove it by goin’ out on the sly
Provin’ your love isn’t true.
Call me Mr Blue.
We could steal a car and listen to the stars
I can see you’ve choked on them too
Had enough of late night films
Just enough for an hour or two
Hey Blue show me something new
Hey Blue show me something new
Down on the corner, by the traffic light,
everybody’s lookin’, as she goes by,
they turn their heads and they, watch her till she’s gone.
Lord have mercy, Baby’s got her blue jeans on!
Down on the corner, out in the street
Willy and the poor boys are playin’
Bring a nickel, tap your feet
I love rock 'n roll
So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock 'n roll
So come and take your time and dance with me
They say the heart of rock and roll is still beating
And from what I’ve seen I believe 'em
Now the old boy may be barely breathing
But the heart of rock and roll, THE heart of rock and roll is still beating
I don’t know
I don’t know which side I’m on
I don’t know my right from left
Or my right from wrong
Say I’m a fool
You say I’m not for you
But if I’m a fool for you
Oh, that’s something
Two hearts beat as one
Two hearts beat as one
Two hearts…
Do you know where you’re going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you?
Where are you going to?
Do you know?
What do you want from life
To try and be happy
while you do the nasty things you must
Well, you can’t have that, but if you’re an American citizen you are entitled to:…
real simulated Indian jewelry,
a Gucci shoetree,
a year’s supply of antibiotics,
a personally autographed picture of Randy Mantooth
and Bob Dylan’s new unlisted phone number,
a beautifully restored 3rd Reich swizzle stick,
Rosemary’s baby,
a dream date in kneepads with Paul Williams…
a solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pot,
or a baby’s arm holding an apple?
Your flask of Jack
Your vibrator
Your fear of heights
Your Nikon lens
Your mom and dad
Your disco stick
Your soundtrack to “karate kid”
Your ginsu knives
Your rosary
Your new Rebecca Black CD
Your favorite room
Your bowie knife
Your stuffed giraffe
Your new glass eye
Your sousaphone
Your breakfast tea
Your Nick Drake tapes
Your giving tree
Your ice cream truck
Your missing wife
Your will to live
Your urge to cry
Remember we’re all gonna die
So play, your ukulele