(Fearing)
|
|
Talking with my friends around a bottle of red wine
|
We laugh a lot, telling jokes, telling lies
|
Money in the bank is knowing people that you like
|
Knowing people you can trust in troubled times
|
¡®Cause time offers no guarantees
|
And it only takes a little thing to bring you to your knees
|
To face the music playing now
|
Like a song on the radio
|
It¡¯s sad and it¡¯s familiar
|
spreading like a rumour
|
And everybody knows that old song on the radio
|
As clear as black and white
|
We can sing it with our eyes closed
|
Everybody knows that old song on the radio
|
|
The morning¡¯s in the headlines and the tealeaves in my cup
|
But I still don¡¯t know what isn¡¯t true
|
The sun rose on the city and everyone so busy
|
Making plans up and down the avenue
|
A flash of silver caught the public eye
|
And we all turned to stare into the New York sky
|
To face the music playing now
|
Like a song on the radio
|
It hurts to have to hear it
|
Seemed too cruel to bear
|
But everybody knows that old song on the radio
|
The red, white and blue
|
It¡¯s a scar and a tattoo
|
And everybody knows that old song on the radio
|
|
-----------------
|
Song On The Radio
|
| Blackie & the Rodeo Kings |
