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How can a coach have any influence over a player that's making over five times more than he is?

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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

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John Gay

Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.

Of Walking the Streets by Day.

Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
The proper implements for wintry ways;
Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,
To read the various warnings of the skies.
Now venture, Muse, from home to range the town,
And for the public safety risk thy own.
For ease and for dispatch, the morning's best;
No tides of passengers the street molest.
You'll see a draggled damsel, here and there,
From Billingsgate her fishy traffic bear;
On doors the sallow milk-maid chalks her gains;
Ah! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains!
Before proud gates attending asses bray,
Or arrogate with solemn pace the way;
These grave physicians with their milky cheer,
The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair;
Here rows of drummers stand in martial file,
And with their vellum thunder shake the pile,
To greet the new-made bride. Are sounds like these
The proper prelude to a state of peace?
Now industry awakes her busy sons,
Full charg'd with news the breathless hawker runs:
Shops open, coaches roll, carts shake the ground,
And all the streets with passing cries resound.
If cloth'd in black, you tread the busy town
Or if distinguish'd by the rev'rend gown,
Three trades avoid; oft in the mingling press,
The barber's apron soils the sable dress;
Shun the perfumer's touch with cautious eye,
Nor let the baker's step advance too nigh;
Ye walkers too that youthful colours wear,
Three sullying trades avoid with equal care;
The little chimney-sweeper skulks along,
And marks with sooty stains the heedless throng;
When small-coal murmurs in the hoarser throat,
From smutty dangers guard thy threaten'd coat:
The dust-man's cart offends thy clothes and eyes,
When through the street a cloud of ashes flies;
But whether black or lighter dyes are worn,
The chandler's basket, on his shoulder borne,
With tallow spots thy coat; resign the way,
To shun the surly butcher's greasy tray,
Butcher's, whose hands are dy'd with blood's foul stain,
And always foremost in the hangman's train.
Let due civilities be strictly paid.
The wall surrender to the hooded maid;
Nor let thy sturdy elbow's hasty rage
Jostle the feeble steps of trembling age;

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Hard Times

(jimmy dean/lyrics by myles goodwyn)
Published by acuff rose music, inc. - bmi
Hard times, hard times, hard times, hard times
When the college professor has no class
And the quarterback would rather pass
And the pump jockey complains of gas
Its hard times, hard times
When the taxi driver he cant hack it
And the tennis player cant stand the racket
When allies refuse to pack it, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times
When the elevator cant find the floor
And the doorman he cant find the door
When they give to the rich what they take from the poor, its hard times
Seems your moneys gone before its spent
If youre not busted then youre badly bent
To give it away doesnt make any sense, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times, hard times
Now grandma forgets how to knit
And the wise man has lost his wit
And my tailor feels unfit, its hard times, hard times
When the fashion models lost her poise
And santa clause smashes all the toys
When boys could be girls, and girls could be boys, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times, hard times
When the clock on the walls got no time for jokes
And kreskin says its all a hoax
When the surgeon general chain smokes, its hard times
When the truck driver dont wanna truck
And the hockey player wont touch the puck
And the rock musician dont wanna fool around, its hard times
Hard times, hard times, real hard times
Harder times, hard times
I was talking to this lady the other day and she was telling me..........

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Street Player

Ill never forget those aimless years
Street sounds swirling through my mind
Trouble was often in the air
So we fought to forget our despair
Im a street player
And Ill play you a song
cause you know, my heart & soul
Will carry, carry on
Carry on
Carry on
Carry on
City lifes the only way
Street corners and billiard halls was our home away
Lessons learned still help me today
Im a street player
Ive seen it all
Hitmen, thieves and many a brawl
But as you see I still stand tall
It was such a small space in time
I never knew that I would find
A musical path for all to see
Anxiety into ecstacy
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Ive seen it all
Hitmen, thieves and many a brawl
But as you see I still stand tall
It was such a small space in time
I never knew that I would find
A musical path for all to see
Anxiety into ecstacy
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player
Im a street player

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Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer in the evening;
Soccer in the morning;
Soccer in spring and fall.

Soccer in the raining;
Soccer in the snowing;
Soccer in winter and summer.

Soccer in between my feet,
where I walk;
Soccer in my heart and mind,
how I live;
Soccer my love and life.

Soccer I wake up and play;
Soccer I hold it to sleep;
Soccer my work and rest.

Soccer I sing a new song;
Soccer I dance the magic steps;
Soccer my tears and joy.

Soccer my Mom buys it for me to play;
Soccer my Dad brings me to the game;
Soccer my dear Love watches me to score.

Soccer I dribble and shoot;
Soccer I pass and fall;
Soccer my glory and downfall.

Soccer I strike to attack;
Soccer I tackle to defend;
Soccer my struggle and survival.

Soccer I receive the flags and the whistles;
Soccer I get the yellow and red card;
Soccer my moves and stop.

Soccer I meet my friends;
Soccer I make my enemies;
Soccer my conflict and peace.

Soccer I play and watch;
Soccer I watch but cannot play;
Soccer my dream and reality.

Soccer I learn the rights;
Soccer I confess the fouls;

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How Polly Paid For Her Keep

Do I know Polly Brown? Do I know her? Why,
damme,
You might as well ask if I know my own name?
It's a wonder you never heard tell of old Sammy,
Her father, my mate in the Crackenback claim.

He asks if I know little Poll! Why, I nursed her
As often, I reckon as old Mother Brown
When they lived at the “Flats,” and old Sam
went a burster
In Chinaman's Gully, and dropped every crown.

My golden-haired mate, ever brimful of folly
And childish conceit, and yet ready to rest
Contented beside me, 'twas I who taught Polly
To handle four horses along with the best.

"Twas funny to hear the small fairy discoursing
Of horses and drivers! I'll swear that she knew
Every one of the nags that I drove to the “Crossing,”
Their vices, and paces, and pedigrees too.

She got a strange whim in her golden-haired noodle
That a driver's high seat was a kind of a throne,
I've taken her up there before she could toddle,
And she'd talk to the nags in a tongue of her own.

Then old Mother Brown got the horrors around her:
(I think it was pineapple-rum drove her daft)
She cleared out one night, and the next morning they
found her,
A mummified mass, in a forty foot shaft.

And Sammy? Well, Sammy was wailing and weeping,
And raving, and raising the devil's own row;
He was only too glad to give into our keeping
His motherless babe - we'd have kept her till now

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Straight Cold Player

I'm a straight cold player
Just a straight cold player
Straight cold prayer
Ouah !

Just a straight cold player
Just a straight cold player
Straight cold player
Ouah!

I'm a straight cold player
I'm just a straight cold player
Straight cold player
I'm just a straight cold player

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I'll Be Your Player [Remix]

Yeah Committee remix you can't beat us (who you is fool?)
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars (like that)
Being that I'm... (x4)
Real I feel you need a man in your life child
Somebody black baldheaded plus buckwild
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars
A real woman scholar
If a players what you want lil' momma holla
Yeah I'ma holla through you looking good
So Trick what you wanna do
I asked my girls if all the player talk was true
They told me yeah girl, hurry up and make your move
Now can I be your lover
Don't bother asking your friends about my Benz and ends
Unless you planning on me staying yeah
I get my freak on, plus my back strong
No more sad songs for long girl your daddy's home
I'll be your player
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(If a players what you want lil' momma holla)
So Trick you a player Boo
I like your game if you want I'm available
I'll get you sprung off the way I use my tounge ohhhh
I'll get you hot when my lips touch your spot
I'll lick you like a lollipop, damn I can hardly stop
You make me scream, yell, holla (who you wit'?)
Trick Daddy Dollars
I turn you on when I touch your chest
And you turn me on when you kiss my neck
Nothing less than deep penetration
Anticipation, lets make it happen, I'm sick of waiting
Daddy, you know you possess the key
So where you want it
Right here on the side of me
I'll be your player
(chorus)
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(they call me Trick Daddy Dollars)
I need a player, to hold me tight all through the night
(If a player's what you want lil' momma holla
See I suduce you wit' your legs up
First we bone and get it on, all night long, on and on
Then I continue when you draw straw
Make your heart be stoning til' you climb the wall
You taste so sweet, from your head to your feet
It's my treat so baby girl ?
Call me Freaky Deaky cause I want to be your servant
And while I'm serving, I'll slap you up a serving

[...] Read more

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I'll Be Your Player [Remix]

Yeah Committee remix you can't beat us (who you is fool?)
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars (like that)
Being that I'm... (x4)
Real I feel you need a man in your life child
Somebody black baldheaded plus buckwild
They call me Trick Daddy Dollars
A real woman scholar
If a players what you want lil' momma holla
Yeah I'ma holla through you looking good
So Trick what you wanna do
I asked my girls if all the player talk was true
They told me yeah girl, hurry up and make your move
Now can I be your lover
Don't bother asking your friends about my Benz and ends
Unless you planning on me staying yeah
I get my freak on, plus my back strong
No more sad songs for long girl your daddy's home
I'll be your player
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(If a players what you want lil' momma holla)
So Trick you a player Boo
I like your game if you want I'm available
I'll get you sprung off the way I use my tounge ohhhh
I'll get you hot when my lips touch your spot
I'll lick you like a lollipop, damn I can hardly stop
You make me scream, yell, holla (who you wit'?)
Trick Daddy Dollars
I turn you on when I touch your chest
And you turn me on when you kiss my neck
Nothing less than deep penetration
Anticipation, lets make it happen, I'm sick of waiting
Daddy, you know you possess the key
So where you want it
Right here on the side of me
I'll be your player
(chorus)
I need a player
Someone who's gonna treat me right
(they call me Trick Daddy Dollars)
I need a player, to hold me tight all through the night
(If a player's what you want lil' momma holla
See I suduce you wit' your legs up
First we bone and get it on, all night long, on and on
Then I continue when you draw straw
Make your heart be stoning til' you climb the wall
You taste so sweet, from your head to your feet
It's my treat so baby girl ?
Call me Freaky Deaky cause I want to be your servant
And while I'm serving, I'll slap you up a serving

[...] Read more

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Loving You's A Dirty Job But Somebody's Gotta Do It

(jim steinman)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
Girl:
When the sky is falling and you're looking round for somewhere to hide
Did you ever call out to someone
Did you ever call out to me, i've never been gone-
I've been right here by your side
There ain't nothin' but clouds
There ain't nothin' but clouds in your eyes
Why don't you believe it when you finally found the truth
Youve been drinking poison water from the fountain of youth
Why don't you stop tearing up everyone you need the most
You're so busy trying to get even
You never even try to get close
I can't explain it away
It doesn't make any sense
To know what it's like
I guess you gotta go through it
It doesn't matter baby
Loving you's a dirty job
But somebody's gotta do it
Boy:
There were times when we'd never fake it
There were times when we'd always make it
There were times when we'd take it to the limit
And we'd never, never, ever leave each other alone
We were flesh and blood and bone
There were times we had it all
There were times we had it all
(alt/ same)
Both:
There were times when we took our chances
There were times we were damn good dancers
There were times when we heard all the answers
In the beating of the drummer and the riches of the rock and the roll
I can see right through your soul
There were times we had it all
There were times we had it all
Boy:
If your fears could only be forgotten
We could pull all of the barriers down
Would you follow your dreams' desire
Would you follow your secret dreams and forbidden fire
Let's just peel out of this town
Both:
It's been nothing but dreams
It's been nothing but dreams until now
Boy:
You're never gonna see it
Both:

[...] Read more

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Papa Luv It A. K. A Poppa Luv It

Intro:
I do this for you baby
Papa luv it do, yknowimsayin
Mmm,
(do you want to be a player) yeah
(then you got to have that flavour)
More of that mr.smith flavour, bust ya brain right quick, yknow
(do you got to be right) second move yknowimsayin?
(at all times? ) yeah, all the time, all good
Verse 1:
Uhh, thats the sound of the man
Workin with the mic in my hand
Ready or not here I come
Its another one (damn, not another one) yeah
We bring it just like dat (like dat)
Droppin triple platinum flavour on the drum tap
Dog a donut nice and crafty
Poke your lips out sassy when you ask me
Special request is granted (aah)
Head all slanted, (uhh) the gym has planted
(so what you tellin me youre too smooth to pop? )
If it pops should I stop fore it drops?
Who knows? who goes? who flows?
Me and you? (yeah) just remember boo
(I promise Ill remember) everything I do girl
(I promise) I do it for you, word is bond (I know) word is bond
Chorus:
Papa luv it way she does it
(do you wanna be a player? ) uh
Papa luv it way she does it
(then you got to have that flavour) yeah
Papa luv it way she does it
(do you got to be right)
(at all times) papa luv it way she does it
*repeat*
Verse 2:
Feel it, hold out your hands (and) open up (damn)
Now let it flow from both cups (aw man)
Is he good? (no doubt) all the time, miss
Is he right? (no doubt) one of a kind, miss
Now tell me what you really talkin bout in three words or less
Ladies (get it out) like this
I luv it when I give it to you raw, baby
Hate to hurt but hurtin makes you crazy (crazy)
Its my duty to dig booby
Make a video (yo, you mean my own movie) yup
You can star, here we are
Theres ya blow, let it flow, you already know
Undress slow, I drop a lil french on ya
Then geronimo!

[...] Read more

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Good Times Roll

Let the good times roll
Let them knock you around
Let the good times roll
Let them make you a clown
Let them leave you up in the air
Let them brush your rock and roll hair
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll
Let the stories be told
They can say what they want
Let the photos be old
Let them show what they want
Let them leave you up in the air
Let them brush your rock and roll hair
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll-oll
Wont you let the good times roll
Good times roll
If the illusion is real
Let them give you a ride
If they got thunder appeal
Let them be on your side
Let them leave you up in the air
Let them brush your rock and roll hair
Let the good times roll
Wont you let the good times roll-oll
Let the good times roll
Let the good times roll
Wont you let the good times roll
Well let the good times roll
Let =91em roll (good times roll)
Let the good times roll
Oo let the good times roll
Oo let the good times roll
Let =91em roll (good times roll)
Well, let the good times roll
(let the good times roll)
Well let the good times roll
Good times roll
(let the good times roll)
Let the good times roll
Let =91em roll

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A Hundred Times Over

A hundred times over words have flowed through my fingers to the keys
A hundred times over I have released the freedom that is in my mind,
A hundred times over I have become one with my inter most longing,
A hundred times over I have taken a journey to show you my own world.
A hundred times over I have written of pain and life, of sorrow and joy,
A hundred times over I have used my art to show you what's in my mind
A hundred times over again I will show you.
A hundred times over I have cried for those, whose names are untold,
A hundred times over I have showed you their pain.
A hundred times over I have become their connection to you,
A hundred times over I have showed you the beauty of our world,
A hundred times over I have taken you somewhere you may never see,
A hundred times over my words have screamed the horror of darkness,
A hundred times over I have sung to you the beauty of light,
A hundred times over I have taken your hand to lead you to a new place
A hundred time over I have written for those who have no words to write
A hundred times over I have tried to show truth in a world of lies,
A hundred times over I have have tried to show the world's beauty,
A hundred times over again I will lead down these paths,
A hundred times over and over again I will show you reality,
A hundred times over and over again I shall show you my world,
A hundred times over and over again until you have memorised truth,
A hundred times over again until you can repeat what I have told,
A hundred times over again shall I create an art of words, time, of life.
A hundred times over again I shall do this,
A hundred times over again.
A hundred times over.

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The Drug's Not Working

I was shooting in the back of the car
When the windows smashed on the police cars
I was swimming through the streets of New York
With my cocaine dagger and throats to cut
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making me high
She was a hooker at the age of 16
All she wanted was the money
She didn't need an I.D.
She was a junkie and I know its clich
But then so was her life
I mean, she lived in L.A.
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making her high
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
But it was making her high
And it was making her cry
And it was making her cry
(Riot in my skull, demons are coming)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Painted it all black, the chains are jerking)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Riot in my skull, demons are coming)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
And it was making her cry
(Los Angeles is dead, the drugs ain't working)
Riot in my skull, demons are coming
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
Painted it all black, the chains are jerking
L.A. is dead, the drugs ain't working
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
L.A. your dead, the drugs ain't working
The drugs ain't working
The drugs ain't working

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My Repetitious Future....[LONG; My Life/Personal; Math]

What do I have to look forward to the rest of my fine life?
It depends, to some degree at least, on my dear wife.
If she stays alive and somehow keeps on putting up with me,
I may live twenty more years (ten more than I 'should') . We'll see.

To make the math simple let's say my years left are ten.
So how many times might I repeat things between this day and then?
I mean some of the daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly things I do.
Some are necessary and some I enjoy, but some I don't look forward to.

Sleep: Let's say 10x365x10=36,500 hours, give or take.
That's about two-fifths as many hours as I'll be awake!
How many movie DVDs watched at night from our couch?
That's 5x52x10=2600 movies we'll see. Ouch.

At only two real meals a day, that's still 7300 sittings to dine,
but with an equal number of snacks I think that I'll be fine.
And while Aki slaves to prepare about 3400 dinners
I'll be reading to us aloud from 130 novels of murder, losers, and winners.

If my body cooperates I'll take 2600 walks, give or take.
Some will be near Bay, but most will be near home that I'll make.
And walking my town's streets I'll take down 300 outdated signs,
and trim 200 overhanging branches as long as no one whines.

I'll practice Happy Birthday on piano 3000 times, most times while standing,
and do perhaps 200 little home projects, which may include some sanding.
I'll fill bird feeders 120 times or more, depending on the birds,
and 2000 times add water to bird dishes, removing first their turds.

I'll romance my wife 520 times; that figure may be high.
I'll shave my face a thousand times unless I give beard, again, a try.
Trim toenails 60 times and fingernails about one-o-five.
3650 showers I'll take as long as wife's alive.

I'll have an untold number of bowel movements. Wait and see.
And ‘bout eighteen thousand times, usually without flushing, I'll pee.
I'll have 10 to 100 doctor appointments. Who really knows?
I'll go to dental office twice yearly, though their current business staff blows.

I'll brush my teeth six or seven thousand times, but with no flossing.
I'll punch a time clock no more times; except for from my wife, I'll have no bossing.

Ten or twenty shirts I'll wear out completely, while getting countless others dirty.
I'll call my siblings about 400 times, especially my sister Birdie.
I'll call friends about 2500 times, plus emails, but few letters.
I might wear an outdoor jacket 400 times, but I'll rarely wear a sweater.

I'll take 3600 doses of aspirin, and twice-that of flaxseed oil,
and 500 bottles of red wine to, hopefully, bad health foil.

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I Don't Think So

I Don't Think So
We've been through this time together
AlI in my mind the love was so alive
Oh I never wanted for another
Then I saw the beginnings of a Iie
Good times and the bad times
Through the good times and the bad times with me
Good times and the bad times
Yeah I wonder why I never see
Good times and the bad times
Oh maybe there was always something wrong
Good times and the bad times
Did l wait too long
Chorus:
You said you'd love me for all of your life
I don't think so
Through the best of the best and the worst of the times
I don't think so
You said the world was a beautiful place
l don't think so
You swore the love was perfectly sale
I don't think so
People can only stay together
If in their hearts they know they can say what's on their minds
Would you say
Good times and the bad times
If it can't really be then I gotta move on
Good times and the bad times
Is it really time
Chorus: (repeat)
Said the check's in the mail and the maiI's on time
I don't think so
Said out of touch ain't out of mind
I don't think so
Couldn't live without me, and that's a fact
I don't think so
Love is real and it's not an act
I don't think so
Come on
Good times and the bad times
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
Baby our love was a beautiful thing
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
You said you'd love me for all of your life
I don't think so
Good times and the bad times
Through the best of the best and the worst of times
I don't think so

[...] Read more

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The Joy if Church Fellowship Rightly Attended

In heaven soaring up, I dropped an ear
On earth: and Oh, sweet melody:
And listening, found it was the saints who were
Encroached for Heaven that sang for joy.
For in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.

Oh, joyous hearts! Enfired with holy flame!
Is speech thus tassled with praise?
Will not your inward fire of joy contain:
That it in open flames doth blaze?
For in Christ's coach saints sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.

And if a string do slip by chance, they soon
Do screw it up again, whereby
They set it in a more melodious tune
And a diviner harmony.
For in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.

In all their acts, public and private, nay,
And secret too, they praise impart.
But in their acts divine and worship, they
With hymns do offer up their heart.
Thus in Christ's coach they sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.

Some few not in; and some whose time and place
Block up this coach's way do go
As travelers afoot, and so do trace
The road that gives them right thereto,
While in this coach these sweetly sing,
As they to glory ride therein.

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The Dead Coach

At night when sick folk wakeful lie,
I heard the dead coach passing by,
And heard it passing wild and fleet,
And knew my time was come not yet.

Click-clack, click-clack, the hoofs went past,
Who takes the dead coach travels fast,
On and away through the wild night,
The dead must rest ere morning light.

If one might follow on its track
The coach and horses, midnight black,
Within should sit a shape of doom
That beckons one and all to come.

God pity them to-night who wait
To hear the dead coach at their gate,
And him who hears, though sense be dim,
The mournful dead coach stop for him.

He shall go down with a still face,
And mount the steps and take his place,
The door be shut, the order said!
How fast the pace is with the dead!

Click-clack, click-clack, the hour is chill,
The dead coach climbs the distant hill.
Now, God, the Father of us all,
Wipe Thou the widow’s tears that fall!

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Daily Records

This could be suffering
This could be suffering
This could be pleasure
This could be pleasure
Im unaware of any difference
Im unaware of any difference
My head is aging
My head is aging
My balls are aching
My balls are aching
But Im not looking for deliverence
But Im not looking for deliverence
This could be letting on
This could be letting on
This could be highly cut
This could be highly cut
Im unaware of ~any difference
Im unaware of ~any difference
One says it cant be done
One says it cant be done
Then somebody does it - but
Then somebody does it - but
Im not watching for equivalents.
Im not watching for equivalents.
I just dont quite know how to wear my hair no more
I just dont quite know how to wear my hair no more
No sooner cut it than they cut it even more
No sooner cut it than they cut it even more
Got to admit that I created private worlds
Got to admit that I created private worlds
Cold sex and booze dont impress my little girls
Cold sex and booze dont impress my little girls
Daily records
Daily records
Just want to be making daily records
Just want to be making daily records
Try to avoid the bad news in the letters
Try to avoid the bad news in the letters
Just wanna be making records
Just wanna be making records
Play in - play out - fade in - fade out
Play in - play out - fade in - fade out
Making records day in - day out
Making records day in - day out
And they say its just a stage in life
And they say its just a stage in life
But I know by now the problem is a stage
But I know by now the problem is a stage
And they say just take your time and itll go away
And they say just take your time and itll go away

[...] Read more

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Player

So there U are
About time U showed up
Yea, I know what U heard
But let me talk
Baby, take a look outside your window
And see your future standing there
I've been here 4 a while now, baby
Or maybe U weren't aware
I knew that U heard every single story
About all the friends that I've got
But baby, if U give me 7 years of your time
All the friends I would have not
CHORUS:
Player - If I had U girl, I wouldn't be one
Player - If U'd let me in the mix, we could have fun
Player - If life was a movie, U'd have the main part
Girl, U're number one with a bullet on my charts
Don't make me say I need U like a begger man
Why don't U let me come inside?
I'm the type of male that a girl like U is in need of
Sho' U right
I could take U sailing in a glass bottom boat
U could drink wine while I read poems that I wrote
I'm sick of fishing in the big sea, baby
I wanna check out the settling down
I wanna dock my boat in your fairway
In your kisses I wanna drown {x3}
CHORUS
If I had U girl, I wouldn't be one
Friends, whatever they told U, they lied
My life's an open book, I ain't got nothing 2 hide
I need U like a begger, yeah, I got no pride
Open your heart, let me come inside
CHORUS
Baby, take a look outside your window
And see your future standing there
I've been here 4 a while now, baby
Or maybe U wouldn't care
I knew that U heard every single story
About all the friends that I've got
But baby, if U give me 7 years of your time
All the friends I will have not
Player - If I had U girl, I wouldn't be one
Player - If U'd let me in the mix, we could have fun
Player - If life was a movie, U'd have the main part
Cuz girl, U're number one with a bullet on my charts
Player {x3}
So that's my day in court

song performed by PrinceReport problemRelated quotes
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