Слова:
By The Tree Notes On My Door

So far from home I was not meant to walk alone I was drowing in a holy war Now your leaving me notes on my door Stranded on the shore You're leaving me notes on my

PHOENIX (Jim Webb) « © '67 Jonathan Tree Music » By the time you got to Phoenix I was rising I read the note you left hanging on my door

my skull that hides behind my hair and skin, I see the selfsame skull of my father, and beyond the skull of my father, the skull of my grandfather, and the skull of my

Rosamond and gorman With his stunning wife ethel A tree, a tree. Billy was a mountain Ethel was a tree growing off of his shoulder Billy was a mountain

the terror slashed throats blowin' genuwine murder notes tree smoke i inhale and spit treacherous tales to the shorty's i;m wanted dead or alive bloodhounds on my

(difford/tilbrook) I've come across the desert To greet you with a smile My camel looks so tired It's hardly worth my while To tell you of my travels

Honey girl on her feet I wish everything to make her sweet Strike twice Okay so roll [Incomprehensible] From Harlem, strike one Lightining strike Harlem slum to penthouse block On every door

day Like cheating on test I failed to study for Having premarital sex and doubtedly a couple more In my late teens I was hot like the oven door Know my

the rat cave to a room with a view My brother's B.G., and my band is Josh U And the stank whole rhythmic funk, plus my nuc' You can comprehend the verbal