|
|
10/04/1999 |
1. | Bluejean Bop |
2. | She Said Yeah |
3. | |
4. | |
5. | No Other Baby |
6. | |
7. | |
8. | Movie Magg |
9. | Brown-Eyed Handsome Man (feat. Chris Hall on accordion) |
10. | What It Is |
11. | Coquette |
12. | |
13. | Honey Hush |
14. | Shake A Hand |
15. | Party |
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
words & music by Otis Blackwell - Elvis Presley
A well I bless my soul
What's wrong with me?
I'm itching like a man on a fuzzy tree
My friends say I'm actin' wild as a bug
I'm in love
I'm all shook up
Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!
My hands are shaky and my knees are weak
I can't seem to stand on my own two feet
Who do you thank when you have such luck?
I'm in love
I'm all shook up
Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!
Please don't ask me what's on my mind
I'm a little mixed up, but I'm feelin' fine
When I'm near that girl that I love best
My heart beats so it scares me to death!
She touched my hand what a chill I got
Her lips are like a volcano that's hot
I'm proud to say she's my buttercup
I'm in love
I'm all shook up
Mm mm oh, oh, yeah, yeah!
My tongue get tied when I try to speak
My insides shake like a leaf on a tree
There's only one cure for this body of mine
. . .
|
|
by Paul McCartney
Run devil run, the angels having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you Run . . . Run Devil Run
By a swamp in Alabama in the cold in the damp
Sittin reading by the light of a kerosene lamp
Lives a holly roller with a mission on her mind
Got to spread the word to anybody she can find
You can hear her screaming any time in night or day
This is what she says to keep the demons away
Run devil run, the angels having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you Run . . . Run Devil Run
Her brother and her sister said that she brought them down
Steppin on the bus that was heading to town
There they started drinking, they got into a fight
The sheriff introduced them to the jailhouse for a night
When the holy roller came to town to pay the bail
This is what she sang as she was leaving the jail
Run devil run, the angels having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you
Run . . . Run Devil Run
Well by the middle of the summer they were back in the shack
Picking cotton for a livin keep 'em on the right track
Visiting the neighbors trying to spread the good news
Singing gospel music with a hint of the blues
All of them determined to deliver the goods
Now you you hear the music comin out on the woods
Run devil run, the angel having fun
Making winners out of sinners better leave before it's done
When he gets through, he'll be coming after you,
Listen what I'm saying to you Run . . . Run Devil Run
Ah you'd better Run . . . Run Devil Run
You better run . . .
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
There's a place where lovers go
To cry their troubles away
And we call it Lonesome Town
Where the broken hearts stay
You can buy a dream or two
To last you all through the years
And the only price you pay
Is heart full of tears
Going down to Lonesome Town, where the broken hearts stay
I'm going down to Lonesome Town, to cry my troubles away
And in the town of broken dreams
The streets are filled with regret
Maybe down in Lonesome Town
Well I can learn to forget
Going down to Lonesome Town, where the lonely hearts stay
I'm going down to Lonesome Town, to cry, to cry my troubles away
And in the town of broken dreams
The streets are filled with regret
Maybe down in Lonesome Town
I can learn to forget
Maybe down in Lonesome Town
. . .
|
|
by Paul McCartney
Sometimes I'm right, sometimes I'm wrong
I can't, help it, but don't know this song
All day, I try to be a man
Help me to do it, If I don't know the song.
Try, try, try Try not to cry, cry cry
Cry over you ou ou, over you
Yes I try, try, try Try not to cry, cry, cry
Cry over you ou ou, over you
I want to enjoy, being alive
Don't want to leave, before I arrive
I like to sing, I sing along
How can I do it, when I don't always know
I say Try, try, try Try not to cry, cry cry
Cry over you ou ou, over you
Yes I try, try, try Try not to cry, cry, cry
Cry over you ou ou, over you
Baby I say Try, try, try Try not to cry, cry cry
Cry over you ou ou, over you
Yes I try, try, try Try not to cry, cry, cry
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
words & music by Aaron Schroeder - David Hill
Holy smokes land sakes alive I never thought this would happen to me
ah-ha, yeah, ah-ha yeah
I got stung by a sweet honey bee
What a feelin came over me
Well it started in my eyes, crept up to my head
Flew into my arms, til I was stung dead
I'm done, ah-ha, I got stung
hum ah-ha, yeah ah-ha, yeah
She had all that I wanted and more
I've never seen honey bees before
Well she started through my ears, buzzing in my brain
Got stung all over but I feel no pain
I'm done, ah-ha, I got stung
Well don't think I'm complainin'
Because I'm might pleased that we met
'Cause you gimme just one little peck On the back of my neck
And I break out in a cold cold sweat
If I live to a hundred and two
I won't let nobody sting me but you
I'll be buzzin' 'round your hive
Ev'ry day at five And I'm never gonna leave once I arrive
I'm done, ah-ha, I got stung
I got stung yeah, I got stung yeah
Well don't think I'm complainin'
Cause I'm might pleased that we met
'Cause you gimme just one little peck On the back of my neck
And I break out in a cold cold sweat
If I live to a hundred and two
I won't let nobody sting me but you
I'll be buzzin' 'round your hive
Ev'ry day at five And I'm never gonna leave once I arrive
I'm done, ah-ha, I got stung, yeah
I'm done, ah-ha, I got stung, yeah
Because I'm done, ah-ha, I got stung
hey, ah-ha, yeah
ah-ha, yeah
ah-ha, yeah
I got stung, yeah
I got stung, yeah
I got stung, yeah
I got stung, yeah , yeah , yeah , yeah , yeah , yeah , yeah
I got stung, yeah
I got stung, stung, stung yeah, yeah ... yeah
I got stung, stung, stung yeah, yeah ... yeah
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|
. . .
|
|