only paralyze him Lay it down, lay it down He sold most of what he cherished The rest he let them steal Shot his dog out in the open field The rest
like heck if the game warden shows Yeah when the sun comes up let's shoot dove You know Faith gets mad at me when she thinks I'd rather be In a field
in the piles By the sides of the road Crashing into the aerials Tangled in the laundry lines And gathered in a field They were burned in a feathering
over the bay I saw you sleeping on the bus last night I saw your arm around another in the bus light I kept on driving by the river and fields Out to
mountains the wizards come But no all at once just one by one With powers in the coats they wear Skin and feather, fur and hair Relics of power and filled
My statures are falling Like feathers of snow Their voices are calling In a whispering world Waiting for the morning glow Heaven is calling From rainy
wear a white feather No survivors, burst the bubble No survivors, there's too much trouble No survivors, you're just a pawn No survivors, don't conform Yeah The fields
Than you and all your money-o Last night I slept in a goose--feather bed Sheets and blankets so cosy-o Tonight I will lie in the cold open fields With
the lilies guise But hard winds harden, both field and garden Pleading for pardon, the lily dies Life's but a bauble of toil and trouble The feathered
Chorus) Jim McMahon I'm the punky QB, known as McMahon. When I hit the turf, I've got no plan. I just throw my body all over the field. I can't
With his head bent searching for reasons Then he called out to God For help and climbed to the top of a hill Wind swept the sunlight through the wheat fields
When I think of heaven, deliver me in a black-winged bird I think of flying down into a sea of pens and feathers And all other instruments of faith, sex
symbols in black, scars that never heal. All over my body, for a thousand years I bore her seal. She chased the moonlight out on the fields, a dance
feverishly and lives I did not lead Like the time I was a hero of a weird, outlandish breed One arm of flesh and muscle and one of feathered scale I
Jumping into streams of nectar Falling through these clouds of silver Reaching for these angel's faces Waking up in fields of feathers It's tied me up
Do it (One, two, three) C'mon Yeah, yeah Gettin' funky in here And hear we go Whoo Ah, c'mon Ha, ha Ah, c'mon Fields of glory straight ahead But you
bramble, All smiling in beautiful bloom, Over the fields without danger, I often Did ramble amidst their perfume ; I have wranged through the woods where the gay feather
Dusty Springfield, that's a pretty name It even sounds like a game In a green field, hobby horses play the dusty game when it's May Pink and paisley