Just like the cigarettes hurt I guess I'm never gonna learn Just like the whiskey burns, whoa wohoa I am rock and roll, living a life we can only dream of They said that self destruction I stopped below and for along My only home is the bottom of the

Sometimes I think Good as we are at gettin' it on How come we just can't get along? The way we love, it don't seem right The way we fuss, the way we fight I got a crazy idea, how 'bout maybe tonight We make up without a fight There's a tangled mess of

California dreamin' on such a winter's day All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray I've been for a walk on a winter's day I'd be safe and warm if I was in L.A. Stopped in to a church I passed along the way Well I got down on my knees and I pretend

Hearts ain't gonna, hearts ain't gonna lie Don't take that the wrong way You know what I mean We get along, get along on the outside We're half of the same Won't do this again When love don't feel right Head out the door, but our hearts on the inside

Yeah the fruits of my labor's when the crowd sings along I'm an empty, faceless spotlight mic-stand I'll getcha high, I'll getcha low, I'm the guitar man yeah Well, I woke to the rise, sun going down Still taste the whiskey, still fresh on my mouth Hot

Can you see me my love? Up there above when you were dying I was dying too, look for meaning in song But the meaning was gone 'cause I was crying I'll be there with you Right along with you if the heavens may break I hope for our sake that if they ever

Aboard the Thailand Express We'll hit the stops along the way We're on the train to Bangkok We only stop for the best Our first stop is in Bogotà To check Columbian fields The natives smile and pass along A sample of their yield Sweet Jamaican pipe dreams

Might like to Go to the show To feel the warm thrill of confusion That space cadet glow I've got some bad news for you, sunshine Pink isn't well, he stayed back at the hotel And they sent us along as a surrogate band

I call it house work 'Cause it's life work (Whatcha, whatcha gon' do?) I'mma throw shapes Feelin' the base to my feet hurt But I'm gon' throw shade if I don't get paid for this house work Would you come along And to leave I'm working Every weekend

You're working for the clampdown Ha! Gitalong! Gitalong! (working for the clampdown) What are we gonna do now? Taking off his turban, they said, is this man a Jew? 'Cause they're working for the clampdown They put up a poster saying we earn more than