here (I feel ya) Take a walk on my side No more tears, no more fears, no more telling me lies I only want cheers and heartfelt goodbyes My death march
o Band Bio o Felix o Harry o Jumps o Ollie o Ryan o Will o Empire Horns
hair Said, "Darling, fly away" Flower of the Calvary You swept me off my saddle Lifted me into your life A soldier's wife was I You proudly marched to the horn
here's the scene. Q-tip, [q-tip] from a tribe called quest, Saw the jungle brother's album, oh yes. So get the ducats it's coming out soon. A month after march
Oh hark, the drums do beat, my love, no longer can we stay The bugle-horns are sounding clear and we must march away We're ordered down to Portsmouth
a cult to me Her limbs were fierce in symmetry It throws me into song The throng have done us wrong And away she goes, her toes leave gold Her horn
charm Through the dales of your doom Our lives are merely trees of possibilities. (*Dworn-Machinery of war, a bronze frame with wheels of white ivory and the horns
who had a toy trumpet He sat on a stone with his lips to the mouthpiece He was deaf dumb and blind so he couldn't quite make it When out of the horn
Great Horsey Champer Goldbraid Pranced proudly In the garden villas With the Sun Dipped diving with his horned onyx saddle Shining in the black aped
babe of the spray Like a white star, tangled and far, Tulip that's what you are. Warm and wise as a mute In the thunderbolt suit Princely and torn, grasping the horn
Rose, Rose, Rose, Rose No bigger than a bubby's thumb. Medieval dublet, elk horn ornamented woodland trumpet, Cradling your musket son. Harlequin
Nijinsky Hind is a wisp of our world Through the heart's eye. It's horns are white hide From the skin of our lord When his youth stood Wondrous and
dancing one horned waife In doublet of puffin-bill. The beast in feast of sound Kittened lamb on God's ground Ridden by the born of horn Jigged
dau dau Du-duluddle, luddle, dau, dau Ahhh!! The woman from the Plateaus of Persia Came to sell me a wonderous thing In a horn of oak with a sulpherous
in the fields With the bless of the hills your Shore and you're poor and your sore feetys Ne'er to be bore By man's claw. The horned dog guarding
Quick silvered from black to grey Then the Gorgon moved the lizard dial And was transformed into Grecian dust And from the sand was born a blacked horned
Like a thrush in the yielding harvest field The prophet deems snow. The silent stork of sadness scans Trelawny Lawn The lion, the unicorn it's horn
High in the sky where eagles fly Morgray, the dark enters the throne Open wide the gate, friend The King will come Blow the horn and praise the highest