100 lyrics for "Some day, some day"
Sometimes it feels like this world is spinning faster Than it did in the old days So naturally, we have more natural disasters From the strain of a fast pace Sunday was a day of rest Now, it's one more day for progress
PlayIs anybody loving you these days Midnight stoplight, happens every time Pretty girl in a car No resemblance whatsover I wonder how you are Constant question poundin' in my brain Lonesome pillow, sun comes yellow I reach across the bed
PlayYou might hear it on the radio. Baby you never know, But it's gonna be just about you and me, How much I miss you. You're the one that got away. You're gonna hear your song someday. And then I'll write you a song. Girl, I'm gonna warn ya, I'm leaving
PlayOh I know, I know I hope someday We'll sit down together And laugh with each other About these days, these days All our troubles We'll lay to rest And we'll wish we could come back to these days, these days These days, these days
PlaySometimes it feels like this world is spinning faster Than it did in the old days So naturally, we have more natural disasters From the strain of a fast pace Sunday was a day of rest Now, it's one more day for progress
PlayYou thrill me, you delight me You please me, you excite me You're something I'd been pleading for I love you, I adore you I lay my life before you I'll have you want me more and more And finally it seems my lonely days are through I've been waiting for
PlayLivin' on the edge You can't help yourself You can't help yourself from fallin' You can't help yourself at all You can't stop yourself from fallin' There's somethin' wrong with the world today Livin' on the edge (everybody, everybody) Tell me what you
PlaySome rules I cannot break The ghost is supposed to love Then why do I feel pain 'Cause nothing is for keeps You just can't hold a cloud The shape will always change Then one day come back down You showed me when you came Night falls on us either way
PlayI remember something Down along the creek Her, the heron hurried away When first I breeched that last Sunday Low moon don the yellow road That leaving wasn't easing all that heaving in my vines And as certain it is evening at is now is not the time, ooh
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