PastaJoe

Black hole sun Won't you come And wash away the rain? Black hole sun Won't you come Won't you come

All along the watchtower Princes kept the view While all the women came and went Barefoot servants, too Well, uh, outside in the cold distance A wildcat did growl Two riders were approaching And the wind began to howl, hey

Obviously the offense is going to have to win the game, which may be the case all season.

Yours was the kiss that awoke my heart There lingers still, though we're far apart That taste of honey Tasting much sweeter than wine

Don't know much about history Don't know much biology Don't know much about a science book Don't know much about the French I took But I do know that I love you And I know that if you love me too What a wonderful world this would be

Don't. Don't you want me? You know I can't believe it when I hear that you won't see me Don't. Don't you want me? You know I don't believe you when you say that you don't need me

I'll tell you 'bout Texas radio and the Big Beat Soft, driven, slow and mad, like some new language Now, listen to this, and I'll tell you 'bout the Texas I'll tell you 'bout the Texas radio I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night Wandering the Western dream Tell you 'bout the maiden with wrought iron soul

I watch the ones with classic comedians on like Rodney Dangerfield, Don Rickles, and Jonathan Winters. Their comedy is timeless.

Cover me, when I run Cover me, through the fire Something knocked me out the trees And now I'm on my knees Darling Don't you monkey with the monkey Monkey, monkey, monkey Don't you know you're gonna Shock the monkey

You were born in the city Concrete under your feet It's in your moves, it's in your blood You're a man of the street

To the beat of the rhythm of the night, dance until the morning light Forget about the worries on your mind, you can leave them all behind

I don’t like Fallon because he overly laughs at anything a guest says. Kimmel has become too commercial, I miss his days on The Man Show. Colbert is still good at political observations and interviews. Seth Myers comes closest to the Letterman humor.

Life is a highway I wanna ride it all night long If you're goin' my way Well, I wanna drive it all night long

She said "I know what it's like to be dead I know what it is to be sad And it's making me feel like I've never been born"

He grabbed down by his ankle / foot.

Well when the game is over, I won't walk out a loser And I know that I'll walk out of here again And I know that someday I'll walk out of here again But now I'm trapped, oh yeah! Trapped, oh yeah yeah! Trapped, oh yeah! Trapped, oh yeah!

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends We're so glad you could attend, Come inside, come inside There behind a glass stands a real blade of grass Be careful as you pass, move along, move along

Can I ask you a question? Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room And every single one of your friends was Making fun of you But 15 seconds later they were clapping too? Then what did you do? Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight? When she said it was too much? Do you wish you could still touch ...her? It's just a question

In my little town I never meant nothing, I was just my father's son, hmm-hmm Saving my money Dreamin' of glory Twitching like a finger on a trigger of a gun Really nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town Nothing but the dead and dying back in my little town

Left the house this morning Bells were ringing and filled the air I was wearing the cross of my calling On wheels of fire, I come rolling down here Come on up for the rising Come on up, lay your hands in mine Come on up for the rising Come on up for the rising tonight

I bought a bourgeois house in the Hollywood hills With a truckload of hundred thousand dollar bills Man came by to hook up my cable TV We settled in for the night my baby and me We switched 'round and 'round 'til half-past dawn: There was fifty-seven channels and nothin' on

Riders on the storm Riders on the storm Into this house, we're born Into this world, we're thrown Like a dog without a bone An actor out on loan Riders on the storm

Rip it up, move down Rip it up, move it down to the ground Rip it up, cool down Rip it up, don't hang me on the borderline Everybody have fun tonight Everybody have fun tonight Everybody Wang Chung tonight Everybody have fun tonight Everybody Wang Chung tonight Everybody have fun

Get yourself cooler, lay yourself low Coincidental murder with nothing to show When the judge's constipation go to his head And his wife's aggravation, you're soon enough dead It's the same old story Same old song and dance, my friend It's the same old story Same old song and dance, my friend

Yes, and how many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? Yes, and how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, and how many deaths will it take 'til he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind