In the words written in red They tell me that there's more to life Said, "I raise my hands I'm findin' more and more truth Old man Wrigley lived in that white house Down the street where I grew up

All or nothing at all Half a love, never appealed to me If your heart, never could yield to me Then I'd rather (rather) have nothing at all If it's love, there is no in between Why begin then cry, for something that might have been No I'd rather (rather)

Adrenaline starts to flow You're thrashing all around Acting like a maniac Late at night all systems go You have come to see the show We do our best you're the rest You make it real you know There is a feeling deep inside

If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon If you believe there's nothing up his sleeve, then nothing is cool Now, Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch? Mott the Hoople and the Game of Life (yeah, yeah,

Johnny be good tonight! Said go, go Johnny! I said go, go Johnny! Said oh, go Johnny! You better be good Johnny B. Goode Deep down in Jamaica, close to Mandeville Back up in the woods, on top of a hill There stood an old hut made of earth and wood

Every time I close my eyes It's like a dark paradise No one compares to you I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side Oh oh oh, ha ha ha I don't wanna wake up from this tonight And there's no remedy for memory your face Your soul is hunting

Nothing can stop you now Like a ghost rider Haunting that wilderness road There's a shadow on the road behind There's a shadow on the road ahead Pack up all those phantoms Shoulder that invisible load Keep on riding north and west Carry all those phantoms

We could have had it all (you're gonna wish you never had met me) You had my heart inside of your hand (you're gonna wish you never had met me) And you played it to the beat (tears are gonna fall, rolling in the deep) There's a fire starting in my heart

That's the difference between whiskey and you One's the devil, one keeps driving me insane But one's a liar that helps to hide me from my pain And one's the long gone bitter truth There's a bottle on the dresser by your ring And it's empty so right now I

In the port of Amsterdam There's a sailor who sings Of the dreams that he brings From the wide open sea There's a sailor who sleeps While the river bank weeps To the old Willow tree There's a sailor who dies Full of beer, full of cries