We coming home tonight Mama, mama, mama, yeah Where should we run to? Don't wanna wake up one day wishing that we'd done more I wanna live fast and never look back, it's what we here for Don't wanna wake up one day wondering "where'd it all go?" 'Cause

The storm is on the horizon I'm standing here alone Got a pistol on my hip And it's gonna be some shit If you want it then bring it on See I'm a motherfuckin' soldier And when they asking who I'm is, shit You just tell them that I'm the one (One, one,

Driven up and down in circles Skidding down a road of black ice Staring in and out storm windows Driven to a fool's paradise But it's my turn to drive Driven to the margin of error Driven to the edge of control Driven to the margin of terror Driven to

I'm in love with your body Come on, be my baby, come on I'm in love with the shape of you Oh—I—oh—I—oh—I—oh—I Every day discovering something brand new Come on now, follow my lead And now my bedsheets smell like you Ya me imagino lo que vamos a hacer Sé

Don't bring me no bag, I want a envelope Ain't 'bout to count no money, ain't sellin' no dope Ain't 'bout to count no money, nah, ain't sellin' no dope You-you a mouse in a trap house (trap house), I'ma dog in a cat house (cat house) Don't bring me no

I never knew the charm of spring I never met it face to face I never knew my heart could sing I never missed a warm embrace Till April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom Holiday tables under the trees April in Paris, this is a feeling That no one can ever

Big wheels turning Baby I know Turning, turning... I remember the dead of night A lonely light that shines upon the window I see it all so clear The tenderness, the silent tears Out here in the pouring rain Through cold dark waiting days

We flow and flow I feel you pouring through Every inch of my soul and I really must tell you this Before you go We are water We are water, we are water 'Cause we are water My friend, my friend, you are traveling

Now I found some Grace beneath the judge's gavel Grace among my brothers on the firing line Grace upon this road less traveled Grace beneath the pines, the pines Grace beneath the pines There'll be no more running round for me No more going down, you'll

"Every winter was a war", she said "I want to get what's mine" Jezebel wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth She probably had less than every one of us But when she knew how to walk she knew How to bring the house down Can't blame her for her