January 17, 200817 yr Elvis Presley : Clean Up Your Own BackyardBack porch preacher preaching at meActing like he wrote the golden rulesShaking his fist and speeching at meShouting from his soap box like a foolCome sunday morning hes lying in bedWith his eye all red, with the wine in his headWishing he was dead when he oughta beHeading for sunday schoolClean up your own backyardOh dont you hand me none of your linesClean up your own backyardYou tend to your business, Ill tend to mineDrugstore cowboy criticizingActing like hes better than you and meStanding on the sidewalk supervisingTelling everybody how they ought to beCome closing time most every nightHe locks up tight and out go the lightsAnd he ducks out of sight and he cheats on his wifeWith his employeeClean up your own backyardOh dont you hand me none of your linesClean up your own backyardYou tend to your business, Ill tend to mineArmchair quarterbacks always moaninSecond guessing people all day longPushing, fooling and hanging on inAlways messing where they dont belongWhen you get right down to the nitty-grittyIsnt it a pity that in this big cityNot a one a little bitty man will admitHe could have been a little bit wrongClean up your own backyardOh dont you hand me, dont you hand me none of your linesClean up your own backyardYou tend to your business, Ill tend to mineClean up your own backyardYou tend to your business, Ill tend to minePlease note: ovo ne podrazumeva da mislim da ima zivota posle smrti, naprotiv, samo ako neko odstupi od izricitog naredjenja da ne dovodi popove i ostale skotove. Edited January 17, 200817 yr by Buck Naked
June 29, 201212 yr http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcKGqgwLzjA&feature=relatedJa sam uvek ovo zamisljao. I sparan dan pocetkom juna ili krajem avgusta...
June 29, 201212 yr http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OAtdhrR79xU LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS (capo on the 2nd fret sothe F#m sounds like a G#mthe E sounds like an F# and so on...) F#m ---E ---Bm ---Dmaj7/A...A6 ----E ---D/A ---F#m ---F#m(repeat) E ---Dmaj9/F# ---D ---A ---EE ---Dmaj9/F# ---D ---A ---Dmaj9/F#E ---F#m ---F#m ---F#m ---F#m Lyrics: Don't come to me with foreversI love you more with each new dayBut there is nothing everlastingAnd Death blows promises away Don't tell me I don't have no secretsThere's still a place I wanta beThere's still a path I haven't wanderedBut I'm afraid of where it leads Let me hold your handsYour arms, your sidesThe small of your backYour shoulders andYour wrists, your thighsYour ankles and I'llFind my way inside You say I don't deserve emotionsThat my devotion isn't trueYou say I gotta find my placeWell my place is inside of you So don't be hasty in your judgmentDon't pull the bag over my headFor there are many here who hungerAnd there are many who despair Lay down your armsYour hair, your gownThe scroll of your spineHand me your headYour waist, your breathYour nipples and I'llFind my way inside
June 29, 201212 yr 2 hamletTo kažeš samo zato što ti je sad vrućina Edited June 29, 201212 yr by Indy
June 29, 201212 yr Nije zato.Ja cujem zrikavce na pocetku pesme. A i nekako su mi sahrane koje su mi najdublje ostale u pamcenju bile u to vreme... Edited June 29, 201212 yr by Hamlet Strašni
June 29, 201212 yr U stvari, kad god slušam nešto što najbolje obožavam, hoću to za sahranu. Sad, recimo, želim biti upamćen kao 1 muffin man!http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Jh6wnmRbvQEDIT. +frida Edited June 29, 201212 yr by Indy
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