And now the time has come
And so my love, I must go
And though I lose a friend
In the end you will know, oh, oh
One day you’ll find that I have gone
But tomorrow may rain, so I’ll follow the sun
Perhaps I’ll become a Highwayman again…
Or a single drop of rain.
But, I will remain…
“Don’t you fret, Monsieur Marius
I don’t feel any pain
A little spot of rain
Can hardly hurt me now”
“I’m here!”
“That’s all I need to know
And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain will make the flowers grow”
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding,
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He’d a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
Here’s a little agit for the never-believer
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
Here’s a little ghost for the offering
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
Here’s a truck stop instead of Saint Peter’s
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
Mister Andy Kaufman’s gone wrestling
Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
There’s armored cars and tanks and jeeps
And rigs of ev’ry size
Yeah, them chicken coops was full’a bears
And choppers filled the skies
Well, we shot the line and we went for broke
With a thousand screamin’ trucks
An’ eleven long-haired Friends a’ Jesus
In a chartreuse micra-bus
Heard of a van that is loaded with weapons
Packed up and ready to go
Heard of some grave sites out by the highway
A place where nobody knows
The sound of gunfire off in the distance
I’m getting used to it now
Lived in a brownstone, lived in a ghetto
I’ve lived all over this town
We left for Frisco in your Rambler
The radiator running dry
I’ve never been much of a gambler
And had a preference to fly
You said “forget about the airline,
Let’s take the car and save the fare.”
We blew a gasket on the Grapevine
And eighty dollars on repairs
Laughing on the bus
Playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy
I said, “Be careful, his bowtie is really a camera”
I gave a girl a ride in my wagon
She crawled in and took control
She was tired as her mind was draggin’
I said get some sleep and dream of rock and roll
'Cause like a picture she was laying there
Moonlight dancing off her hair
She woke up and took me by the hand
She’s gonna love me in my Chevy Van
And that’s all right with me
Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waitin’ for a train
When I’s feelin’ near as faded as my jeans
Bobby thumbed a diesel down, just before it rained
And rode us all the way into New Orleans
I pulled my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana
I’s playin’ soft while Bobby sang the blues
Windshield wipers slappin’ time, I’s holdin’ Bobby’s hand in mine
We sang every song that driver knew
Sing us a song, you’re the Piano Man
Sing us a song tonight
Then I′m gonna have to write a chorus
We’re gonna need to have a chorus
And this seems to be as good as any other place to sing it ′til I’m blue in the face
Yes, we′re gonna need to have a chorus
I’m gonna have to write a chorus
And this seems to be as good as any other place to sing it ′til I’m blue in the face
So take a letter, Maria
Address it to my wife
Say I won’t be coming home
Gonna start a new life
A way out here they have a name for rain and wind and fire.
The rain is Tess, the fire’s Joe, and they call the wind Mariah.
Mariah blows the stars around and sends the clouds a-flyin.’
Mariah makes the mountains sound like folks was out there dyin.’
What’s happening on Wall Street
What’s happening at the Stock Exchange
I want to know
What’s happening on Squawk Box
What’s happening with my stocks
I want to know
I watch you on the TV every single day
Those eyes make everything okay
I watch her every day
I watch her every night
She’s really outta sight
Maria Bartiromo
Maria Bartiromo
Maria Bartiromo
Money, get away
Go get a good job with more pay, and you’re okay
Money, it’s a gas
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash
A new car, caviar, four-star daydream
Think I’ll buy me a football team
For the love of money
People will steal from their mother
For the love of money
People will rob their own brother
For the love of money
People can’t even walk the street
Because they never know who in the world they’re gonna beat
For that lean, mean, mean green
Almighty dollar
Half-penny, two-penny, ashes to dust
Almighty dollar says “In God we trust”
Justice for money; how much more can I pay?
We all know it’s the American way
The shrieking of nothing is killing me
Just pictures of Jap girls in synthesis
And I ain’t got no money and I ain’t got no hair
But I’m hoping to kick but the planet is glowing
Ashes to ashes, funk to funky
We know Major Tom’s a junkie
Strung out in heaven’s high
Hitting an all-time low