(Will they come?) Young girl, they call them the Diamond Dogs I'll keep a friend serene Oh baby, come unto me Well, she's come, been and gone Come out of the garden, baby You'll catch your death in the fog Oo-oo-ooh, call them the Diamond Dogs Beware of

The final countdown It's the final countdown It's the final count down (Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one) We're leaving together, But still it's farewell And maybe we'll come back To earth, who can tell?

Sometimes good intentions It’s all talk, talk, talk Talkin' in the wind It only slows you down If you start listenin' And it’s a whole lot harder to shine Don’t come across so well

Did we all fall down? Well tonight, will it ever come? We hold in our hearts The sword and the faith Swelled up from the rainclouds Move like a wreath We'll lie another day And through it all

We're gonna make it REPEAT CHORUS We'll make it Been fighting for so long don't know which way up is Been stuck and ripped and burnt till it feels like nothin' Our time will come and when it's over and it's done Those fools are gonna know that we ain't

All the pretty girls on a Saturday night Let it be, and come to me with the look in your eyes Well you break and take all the words from my mouth I wish all the pretty girls were shakin' me down But not you, When all the pretty girls can't measure to you

When the girls walk by we'll be like, hey y'all If we get it right they'll be like, hey y'all Wanna rock with us tonight? Hey y'all, damn right. Come on now everybody, whether you're in a bar, in a club, Or just kicking it country style, VIP in the back

Well honey here comes a lullaby Your very own lullaby With a lullaby And turn this up on the radio If you can hear me now I'm reachin' out to let you know That you're not alone And you can't tell, I'm scared as hell 'Cause I can't get you on the telephone

America, America And the red man is right, to expect a little from you And my brothers are all black and white, yellow too Promise and then follow through, America Well I come from, down around Tennessee But the people in California Are nice to me,

Who's gonna take me home? Well, I can't drive, I can't walk And I'm a little too high to crawl I'll hold up this wall Till I come down or the room stops spinnin' Yeah, who's gonna take me home? Bartender's sittin'' them shots on the bar Those last two