How much were you paid
And was it worth your wage?
To
It's a ten-hour drive to our next show
across the western
She asked me if I like to sing
I said, of
At the last minute everything was okay
We bought our tickets,
On hollow ground I sit and wait, playing songs upon
when you're deep in a dark dungeon and the cleric's
We got off the plane in the cold, cold rain
Lost
My dad built a racecar with his own hands
He raced
Paris isn't that romantic
If you don't have any money
Those cafés
Back in WWII the bombs kept dropping, this old city
We were the cliché American backpackers
Standing on the side of
I wish I was a bumblebee,
I wish I lived
It seemed like everything we heard and hoped might be
Dear Dad,
I know you're proud of me
even though you've never
Oh angel, oh angel, come and lend me your sword,
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