No more! (Sad songs) I'm beggin', please, don't play No more sad songs For tonight, I'm going to get my mind off it Don't care that someone's got his hands all over my body Stay out all night, go where the music's loud So I don't have to think about it,

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Alabama, ah ah ah Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the Southland

'you should learn to speak a little bit of english Bits of songs and broken drums Are all he could recall Don't be scared of a suit and tie. Learn to walk in the dreams of the foreigner -- I am a third world child So he spoke to me

When her song's on the radio A little crazy with a blue jean tear My baby's hands in the air don't have a care Gets a RayBan's stare just about everywhere we go. Jesus and gypsy soul Yeah, that's how she rocks, that's how she rolls. 'Cause she likes to

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the south-land I miss 'ole' 'bamy once again And I think it's a sin Well I heard Mister Young sing

Songs in the kitchen All my dreams came true My songs took me far away Now I'm singing them every night In these bright lights up on this stage To tell you the truth I'm probably just missing Songs in the car Songs from the heart

Whoa oh, we're so miserable and stunning Whoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning Whoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning, whoa-oh We take sour sips from life's lush lips And we shake, shake, shake the hips in relationships Stomp out this

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the south-land I miss 'ole' 'bamy once again and I think it's a sin Well I heard Mister Young sing

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the south-land I miss 'ole' 'bamy once again And I think it's a sin Well I heard Mister Young sing

No more (sad songs) I'm beggin', please, don't play No more sad songs For tonight, I'm going to get my mind off it Don't care that someone's got his hands all over my body Stay out all night, go where the music is loud So I don't have to think about it