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Folk Music

Folk Music

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Published by David Desloover
folk music lyrics
folk music lyrics

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Categories:Types, Maps
Published by: David Desloover on Jan 19, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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03/03/2013

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 David Michael DeSloover To the city streets
Revolutions in FranceGive me your handsAnd ill play this guitar Hey ParisThrow out your heartAnd watch it skipSo far Cause your love is a lessonWe soon will learnAnd your love is the reasonFor all the concernBut she was never really real Not always knowing how to feelDancing madly behind windowsDancing wild on tippy toesDancing crazy tapping beats Now we’re marching in the streetsClocks ticking into bucketsRage flies all aroundPerched in arched high heelsAnd teaching us of the groundKnowing the reflection of the worldSparkles in her eyesVisions of India in Indiana Now she’s telling liesOnly sitting by myself Lost in bedLost in a dreamConstant thoughtsConstantly consuming meAnd all I can hear Are those words she saidOver and over and over no moreDancing madly behind windowsDancing wild on tippy toes
 
Dancing crazy tapping beats Now where marching through the streetsCorking the passionThey threw some netsBottling it upTrying to catch the restMemories of motionsOf moonsMemories of everythingStored in our roomsAnd since its no longer Her warm hand in mineIm lost in a bedLost in a dreamConstant thoughtsConstantly consuming meAnd all I can hear Are those words she saidOver and over and over  No moreBrief seconds of honeyDropping from aboveBrief seconds of warmthWith only the sky aboveClocks tick into bucketsRage flies all aroundPerched in arched high heelsAnd teaching us of the groundKnowing the reflection of The world sparkles in her eyesVisions of India in Indiana Now she’s starting to cryKnowing the reflection of The world sparkles in her eyes
Financing others in Fortunes
My fortune was spent on fifty year old albums
 
My fortune was spent on folk singer’s mansionsMy fortune supplied a town with marijuanaMy fortune went to tickets to TijuanaMy fortune is in the soot of ashtraysMy fortune is in dark sunglasses blocking raysMy fortune is in civil war style bootsMy fortune is for corduroy and velvet suitesMy inheritance went into houses for those withoutMy inheritance was in teaching others not to poutMy inheritance is one of humanity’s growth in acceptanceMy inheritance is in the world’s unmade repentanceMy inheritance is still in the dirt and the grassMy inheritance may overcome any striving task My inheritance may stay up late contemplating jazzMy inheritance may be as wild as it saysMy inheritance may wear a red star on a barretteMy inheritance may sing to his love in the rainMy inheritance may even serenade to a bubble bathMy inheritance may help others on their own pathsMy inheritance will listen to others in their voiceMy inheritance will be free in every choiceMy inheritance should not use fear to intimidateMy inheritance may see yours and want to date

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