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10-08-2010, 08:25 AM
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#1 |
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Timed Out
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Widow 
Join Date: Sep 2010
Location: Permanently Banned 11/15/2011
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It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long
Caught somewhere between a boy and man She was seventeen and she was far from in-between It was summertime in Northern Michigan Splashing through the sand bar Talking by the campfire It's the simple things in life, like when and where We didn't have no internet But man I never will forget The way the moonlight shined upon her hair [Chorus:] And we were trying different things We were smoking funny things Making love out by the lake to our favorite song Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long Singing Sweet home Alabama all summer long Catching Walleye from the dock Watching the waves roll off the rocks She'll forever hold a spot inside my soul We'd blister in the sun We couldn't wait for night to come To hit that sand and play some rock and roll While we were trying different things And we were smoking funny things Making love out by the lake to our favorite song Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long Now nothing seems as strange as when the leaves began to change Or how we thought those days would never end Sometimes I'll hear that song and I'll start to sing along And think man I'd love to see that girl again [Repeat Chorus x2] Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long Singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long |
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10-09-2010, 02:06 PM
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#2 |
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Senior Member
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It was always to be so
Cause I am a landslide waiting to fall
I'm a landslide, don't you know? I throw out my arms wide and in my heart I know It was always to be so I'm a landslide, don't you know? All the distances I know Feel just like the shapeless oceans cold And all I wanna do is to hang around with you
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Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats. - H. L. Mencken |
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