dancing around and around in the hall You ask about work and you ask about pay They'll tell you they make less than a dollar a day Working their copper
Look, I, I've spent a lot of time working on this Look, no one's gonna buy it, no one Nobody in middle America, anyway that's for sure He's right Sweetheart
hundred ways to get my shit I play the piano, goddamn that's some funky shit Yeah, I said for those of y'all who wear fannie packs This song's coming
gonna make you feel lil hotter the peas and Sergio Mendes heating up sambaaaa bada, bada, bada, baaaaaa sergio play your piano sergio play your yo yo yo yo piano
(Okay, hold it kids, hold it! Listen! I wanna sing a song now especially for mama. Okay? This is for mama.) She looks at me with the eyes of a child
My friends are working on avoiding me So when we meet I keep my mouth real busy Talk out my nervous energy It never works, I throw darts at the wall and
Billy Flynn] - We'll work it out after the trial. Now, if there's no more question, Miss Kelly and I have got a lot of work to do. [Velma Kelly] Flynn
then my song would do, but i am just a minstrel and music is my trade. How could i write a song for you?, when you're every love song, i have ever
the starving, artless, tempted by the feast of proof that this body of work has worth. Uncertain as the fingering of a chord torn prematurely from a piano
This is how dreams come true, oh Life is ruffles It works every time, every time, every time Works every time! [piano interlude] Life is... ruffles! Yeah! Life is... ruffles! Life is... ruffles! Yeah! ... [piano
You've heard songs about the bright lights of the city And songs about the heroes of our land But there's one guy around who never lets us down The every
, nah don't bother putting that on '[Verse 1] Girl Let Me Take You To My Studio Give You Everything You Want And Need Lay You Flat Like A Piano If You
shirt I get a bite to eat I go to work I'm the AV guy I'm the AFNY guy I'm the piano guy Let's go to sleep I wrote a new song It has a good beat Let
fuck yourself. MR. DICARLO: Hey, Frankie. Sing "My Mother's Eyes." FRANKIE: Gee, Mr. Dicallo. I haven't sung that song since I was 15. MR. DICARLO: Frankie, let me explain how this works
Missing Persons. JOE Well, they always know where to find me. (Before SHE can develop this, the BOYS and GIRLS around the piano launch into their song
years before. [SOLO WOMAN #1] When he heard the music od Scott Joplin [SOLO MAN #2] In St. Louis [SOLO WOMAN #2] Bought himself some piano lessons Working
the bright one Top in my class Funny what they give you when you Just learn how to ask I can write a song But I cant sing in key I can play piano But
a good place, and in days were where I lived, I imagined life had purpose and I'd something good to give, Mr. Cave played along on the battered hallway piano, Oh, every love song