Desperado, why don't you come to your senses? You been out ridin' fences for so long now Oh, you're a hard one But I know that you got your reasons These things that are pleasin' you Can hurt you somehow Don't you draw the Queen of Diamonds, boy She'll

Buy me a rose, call me from work Open a door for me, what would it hurt Show me you love me by the look in your eyes These are the little things I need the most in my life He works hard to give her all he thinks she wants A three car garage, her own

'Cause everybody fucks, la la la la Let your body decide what it does Love me tonight girl we won't meet again Don't fight the feeling cause love ain't a sin It's okay baby 'cause everybody fucks I know you don't do these type of things on the first

Pray for war, pray for death, pray for hate Pray for all that you know All these years ain't nothing's changed Where have we gone, what have we done Where have we gone, nowhere left to run And you know Spiral of darkness, as the fools away Peace through

These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire (You said) we were born with nothing And we sure as hell have nothing now Do you understand that we will never be the same again The future's in our hands and we will

You can do what you want as long As the curtain is high and strong We should be like this all the time For the Earth, one day will die Now that all these walls are down Wonder what I'll tell you Count the number of things you are See how long it takes you

We're in love Lay us down Whether near or far I am always yours Any change in time We are young again In these coming years Many things will change But the way I feel

If these are the things that Dreams are made of Why don't I dream anymore I'm in the garden All the trees bear fruit I have to pick them before they fall I finally grab one I hold it in my hand I open it up

These are a few of my favorite things Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens Brown paper packages tied up with strings Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels Door bells and sleigh bells and

These streets took my conscience All the finer things, designer jeans, I'm getting paid Yeah, Project Baby Sniper Gang Yeah, everybody with me on that same thang I don't gang-bang but I bang bang I pull up to the club, I got on eight chains Took that