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Spearhead - 100,000 Miles
The junkies, the Hookers, the dealers the place
kickin'' off my covers / trippin'' off the fact
that I haven''t called my gramma in a long, long time
standin in the shower/ for almost half an hour
Tryin'' to wake up/ and I''m lookin for the power
reachin'' for the towel/ with soap in my eyes
dryin'' off my shoulders,/ my chest, and my thighs
The next thing I know/ the telephone rings
I hear my own voice /on the answering machine
please leave a message/ I''m glad ya called
I listen for a voice /but there''s nothin'' at all
Man oh Man
I gotta kick the blues
and pay respect where respect is due
all praises to GOD the one I return to
the one I can turn to
when I''m feelin burned to the bone
(chorus)
Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
The bed is still warm but there''s an empty space
Easrly in the morn/ before I wash my face
a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place
At six in the morning /she rolled outa bed
stared out the window/ and then she said
that I wasn''t her type...
I think she''s runnin outa types though...and I told her so.
She picked up her things and walked through the door
and then said that she couldn''t see me no more
just as she was leaving /I asked her if she''d call
she didn''t look back / said nuttin at all
I didn''t change my clothes/ because they smell like you
and when I took a shower it reminded me of you
I called Gramma Brown/for advice
it happened to me once/it happened to me twice
Michael/ my son/ you sound really bugged
I wish that you were here /so I could to you give
a hug then she gave me/ a long, long talk
she said "you have the patience /of ice on a sidewalk"
when things get rough/ don''t sweat it
sometimes in life you just have to let it
and sing out a song / so strong
that even a bad dream couldn''t bring harm
to the mind of a young childs battles
formed from the candle light shadows
her voice is like a whispering kiss on the forehead
(chorus)
Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
The bedisstill warmbut there''s an empty space
Early in the mornin/beforeIwashmy face
a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place
In the last thirty minutes/before I fall asleep
when I have said my prayers /and I have brushed my teeth
This is the time /when I am forced to think about
all of the things/ I been tryin to forget about
The Bills, the phone, cleanin up my room
the cars, the traffic, the speakers and the boom
alone I remember /the times with me and you
and I realize my heart is shakin'' up the room
Gramma she would tell us /about the glory days
and gramma she would tell us/ about when we were slaves
in the livin'' room/ pianos outa tune
on top of it the pictures /of every bride and groom
child/ grand child /lost child
every single tear shed / every single smile
''cause everybodies got/ alota shit to deal with
and life doesn''t stop/ it just makes ya feel it
so shake the dust/ offa your feet
take a step forward/ liberate with the beat
so for you/ I wrote this song
I wanted you to hear it/ before you are gone.
the African in me/ the Seminole in me
These are some a things my grandmother gave
to me some believe there are and some believe there
ain''t if ever there was one my gramma Brown she is a saint
(chorus)
Early in the morn/ before I wash my face
The bed isstill warmbut there''san empty space
Earlyin themornin/ before I wash my face
a hundred thousand miles is a lonely place
Date added: | Mar 26, 2005 |
Requirements: | Win XP/Vista/Win7/S2003/2008 |
Software: | Mp3 Player |
Limitations: | No limitations |
File size: | ?? Mb |
Download time: | < ? min (on 1Mbps) |
BitRate: | ?? kbps |
Track Length | ?? (mm:ss) |
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