PUBLIC MARKS from tadeufilippini with tag elyrics

A Friend Is A Friend lyrics HOGARTH When eyes meet in silence A pact can be made A life-long alliance That won't be betrayed Be friendly, befriend me now A friend is a friend Nothing can change that Arguments, squabbles Can't break the contract That each of you makes To the death, to the end Deliver your future Into the hands of your friend WOODLAND CREATURES Be friendly, befriend me now HOGARTH A promise is a promise A handshake will seal it No amount of discussion Can ever repeat it Commitment forever To borrow or lend Deliver your future Into the hands of your friend BADGER When eyes meet in silence You need a pact A pact can be made A life-long alliance CROW That won't be betrayed Won't be betrayed You need a mate BADGER When facing the end You need a mate What is the fate Now facing my friend? BADGER Facing my friend What is the fate? What faces my friend? HOGARTH and WOODLAND CREATURES A friend is a friend Nothing can change that Arguments, squabbles Can't break the contract That each of you makes To the death, to the end Deliver your future Into the hands of your friend HOGARTH Be friendly, befriend me now

Too Old To Rock 'n' Roll Too Young To Die lyrics The old Rocker wore his hair too long, wore his trouser cuffs too tight. Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light. Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams --- the transport caf' prophet of doom. Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams in his post-war-babe gloom. Now he's too old to Rock'n'Roll but he's too young to die. He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville. Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs and prays that he always will. But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys all of his mates are doing time: married with three kids up by the ring road sold their souls straight down the line. And some of them own little sports cars and meet at the tennis club do's. For drinks on a Sunday --- work on Monday. They've thrown away their blue suede shoes. Now they're too old to Rock'n'Roll and they're too young to die. So the old Rocker gets out his bike to make a ton before he takes his leave. Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner just like it used to be. And as he flies --- tears in his eyes --- his wind-whipped words echo the final take and he hits the trunk road doing around 120 with no room left to brake. And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll but he was too young to die. No, you're never too old to Rock'n'Roll if you're too young to die.