Hot dogs, Armour Hot Dogs
What kind of kids eat Armour Hot Dogs?
Fat kids, skinny kids, kids who climb on rocks
Tough kids, sissy kids
– even kids with chicken pox love hot dogs
Armour Hot Dogs
The dogs kids love to bite!
Kids! They are just impossible to control!
Kids! With their awful clothes and their rock an’ roll!
Why can’t they dance like we did
What’s wrong with Sammy Kaye?
What’s the matter with kids today!
You know good, you know good
You know good and well it’s true
They never do what you want 'em to
'Cause people ain’t no good
Oh no, they’re no good on weekends
When they come out to play
And they’re no good for bookends
'Cause you can’t make 'em stay
Hey, people ain’t no good
Oh, people ain’t no good
Oh, they never do what I think they should
So people ain’t no good
At times his books are a comfort to him
But at times like these his books are no help at all
Sometimes he can’t picture everything
So many nights like these he sees nothing at all
And he used to dream about simple things
But daily papers would keep him one day behind
Yes he’s got a doubt about everything
Still searching for wisdom he finds only fools
And I know just where to touch you
And I know just what to prove
I know when to pull you closer
And I know when to let you loose
And I know the night is fading
And I know the time’s gonna fly
And I’m never gonna tell you all the things I wanna tell you
But I know I’ve gotta give it a try
Wise men say only fools rush in…
But I can’t help falling in love with you…
The silver swan, who living had no note,
When death approached unlocked her silent throat.
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore,
Thus sang her first and last and sung no more:
Farewell all joys, O death come close mine eyes,
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.
I think it’s safe to use an entire lyric first published in 1624?
There does sit my father, the King
A hey ho and me bonny o
And yonder sits my mother the Queen
The swans swim so bonny o
And there does sit my brother Hugh
A hey ho and me bonny o
And by him William, sweet and true
The swans swim so bonny o.
And there does sit my false sister Anne
A hey ho and me bonny o
Who drowned me for the sake of a man
The swans swim so bonny o.
There goes my hero
Watch him as he goes
There goes my hero
He’s ordinary
Once I thought the truth was gonna set me free
But now I feel the chains of its responsibility
I will not be a puppet I cannot play it safe
I’ll give myself away with a blind and simple faith
I’m just the same as you I just do the best I can
That’s the only answer…for an ordinary man
Someday, I will feed a snake
Drink her venom, stay awake
With time all pain will fade
Through your memory I will wade
Barely cold in her grave
Barely warm in my bed
Settling for a draw tonight
Puppet girl, your strings are mine!
Can you hear how the children weep?
Tears of fear, like a saw blade cutting deep
Once again, there is pain; I bring flames; I bring cold
I’m the blood red sandman, coming home
On this unholy night, I will make you my own
Blood red sandman, coming home again
I’m coming home again
Well the danger on the rocks is surely past
Still I remain tied to the mast
Could it be that I have found my home at last
Home at last
I tied myself to the wheel
The winds talk to my sails, not me
(Come to me)
Somewhere there my fate revealed
I hear but how will I see
Somewhere beyond the sea
She’s there watching for me
If I could fly like birds on high
Then straight to her arms
I’d go sailing
Somewhere beyond the sea. Bobby Darin
There, by the waterside
Here, where the lens is wide
You and me
By the sea
Taken in tranquility
I heard about Maria, she hated the rat race
And she escaped to a beautiful place
Birds of neo-paradise groove in the trees
The name of her town is Tranquility
So take a letter Maria
Sent it to my wife
Save a copy for my lawyer
Gonna start a new life
Oh, Maria, Maria
She reminds me of a west side story
Growing up in Spanish Harlem
She living the life just like a movie star
Oh, Maria, Maria
She fell in love in East L.A.
To the sound of a guitar
Played by Carlos Santana
And now I know
Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow
In New York City
While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can’t and that is why
They know not if it’s dark outside or light