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Magnet - The Day We Left Town paroles lyrics

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The Day We Left Town

As the morning sun
Seeps in through a crack in the blinds
We open our eyes
 
Just get off this queen-sized bed
Where far too many tears have been shed
And dreams were left for dead
 
It's such a glorious day
So come what may
You and I were off to see the world
 
We'll put on our best clothes
Bring only what we need
Douse the walls in kerosene
Drop the match from the mezzanine
 
Get into the car
Watch it from afar
As the flames kiss the sky
There's only you and I
 
Let it burn to the ground
Cause we're not hanging 'round
It's the day you and I are leaving town
 
Let it burn, let it burn
Cause today is the day we're leaving town
 
It's the day we're leaving town
It's the day we're leaving it all behind
 
You and I
 
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Abandoned Farm

He was a big man, says the size of his shoes
on a pile of broken dishes by the house;
a tall man too, says the length of the bed
in an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,
says the Bible with a broken back
on the floor below the window, dusty with sun;
but not a man for farming, say the fields
cluttered with boulders and the leaky barn.

A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wall
papered with lilacs and the kitchen shelves
covered with oilcloth, and they had a child,
says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.
Money was scarce, say the jars of plum preserves
and canned tomatoes sealed in the cellar hole.
And the winters cold, say the rags in the window frames.
It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.

Something went wrong, says the empty house
in the weed-choked yard. Stones in the fields
say he was not a farmer; the still-sealed jars
in the cellar say she left in a nervous haste.
And the child? Its toys are strewn in the yard
like branches after a storm—a rubber cow,
a rusty tractor with a broken plow,
a doll in overalls. Something went wrong, they say.

Whiskey Eyes

[French Montana]
On the count of three I want everyone to say it
(Rock party)
Hold up, baba
On the count of three I want everyone to say it
'I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy'
1, 2, 3
I'm a mothafuckin' coke boy
 
[Fe]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things, I know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can't do
 
[French Montana]
Yo, Montana
Ayy, hit the game, put the wave in it
Go, go on tap your veins, put the needle in it
I-I snatch you by your head like an eagle did it
Shootout with the police like Sigel did it
Middle of the streets like The Beatles did it
Can't be in it when you leave, or they leave you in it
Ev-Everything that's gold ain't what it glitter
I seen killers fold for certain killas
Have your money right when the law costs
I seen my favorite rappers turn to cornballs
The best thing I did was let that pain hurt my feelings
(Turn the pain into music)
Turn the music into millions, haaan
Got jerked my first deal, and I told 'em 'Suck a dick'
Once I made my first mil', I told them 'Fuck a brick'
Brick, brick by brick, 'til it's empire
L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire
Had to learn taxes, help you relax
If you don't own your masters, your classes turn to ashes
So hit the round table, count it all up
Or get the brown bag, count it all up
Call the bad bitches, round 'em all up
Count it first, we can count it all up
Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up
(International superstar, you know)
 
[Fe]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things, I know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can't do
 
[French Montana]
They said kill 'em with success, toe tag ya up
N-n-name a Hollywood bitch I ain't rag up
P-p-promise, the pressure turn to diamonds
The karma turn to commas
If the block told you eye to eye
Seeing dreams in a bottle
The younger son of Pablo
Trips out to Cabo, D.C. with a model
That's Tammy from Miami, put her face on the white like Sosa
Come and get a close up
I'm on the post like the power forward
From the hoodies to the Tom Ford
Big up, f-for the stick up
They wanted me to hiccup
I copped the Bent' over sticker
A- about to come and pick your chick up
This that Benny Blanco 'fore he killed Carlito
This that Larry Davis before he caught that Rico
Them Bronx streets, Teflon fleek
In the jungle, while you holdin' hands in Palm Beach
We was climbin' fences, we was playin' benches
One time for my bitches, naked on the trenches
European boots, European suits
African diamonds, my niggas shinin'
My nigga Chinx son became my own son
The block where I'm from, you need your own gun
 
[Chinx]
Devil held me up, figured that I'd convert to God
Took my ground from the pavement and aimed it at the stars
Swag drippin' by the liter, four ounce of purp'
The game ain't for the weak, go and play the church
Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup, thick smoke, coughing
Ridin' on these suckas that opposed it
Ballin', took the whistle from the ref and made my own calls
From the pens, got my homie on the phone call
No work, money goes under the mattress only
Hands clean, got some youngins that'll back it for me
Really skatin' budget, conflict diamonds only
Made my vow to the game, boy, that's matrimony
 
[Fe]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You'll tell me things, I know they're all lies
I'll fall, I'll fall for you
And there's nothin' I can't do
 

Thug President

Be courageous, be you
Be furf... Be proud of you, because you can be do
What we want to do
What we want to do
What we want to do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do

Be courageous, be you
Be furf... Be proud of you, because you can be do
What we want to do
What we want to do
What we want to do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do

Win the 'yes' needs the 'no' to win
Against the 'no'
Against the 'no'
Against, against, against the 'no'

Win the 'yes' needs, needs the 'no' to win, to win
Against the 'no'
Against the 'no'
Against, against, against the 'no'

Have you see di BBC
We are very, very dangerous
Have you see di BBC
We are very, very, very dangerous

What do you want?
Me to go back to my plane and go back to France?
Let them, let them do
No that's all, no danger, no problem
This is not a method
This is a provocation
This is not a method
This is a provocation

Please be silent to not disturb me
France has elected its president
She selected him
After a very democratic and clear campaign

Have you see di BBC
We are very, very dangerous
Have you see di BBC
We are very, very, very dangerous

Have you see di BBC
We are very, very dangerous
Have you see di BBC
We are very, very, very dangerous

La tour de Nesle

« Valet de trèfle ! — Dame de pique ! de gagne ! » Et le soudard qui perdait envoya d’un coup de poing sur la table son enjeu au plancher.

Mais alors messire Hugues, le prévôt, cracha dans un brasier de fer avec la grimace d’un cagou qui a avalé une araignée en mangeant sa soupe.

— « Pouah ! les chaircuitiers échaudent-ils leurs cochons à minuit ? Ventre dieu ! c’est un bateau de feurre qui brûle en Seine ! »

*

L’incendie qui n’était d’abord qu’un innocent follet égaré dans les brouillards de la rivière, fut bientôt un diable à quatre tirant le canon et force arquebusades au fil de l’eau.

Une foule innombrable de turlupins, de béquillards, de gueux de nuit accourus sur la grève, dansaient des gigues devant la spirale de flamme et de fumée.

Et rougeoyaient face à face la tour de Nesle, d’où le guet sortit l’escopette sur l’épaule, et la tour du Louvre, d’où, par une fenêtre, le roi et la reine voyaient tout sans être vus.