Lyrics:
stacked fresh paper like an old maid
Good flower high profits like the gold trade
Be the best me nothing less period
Impress none have fun yes serious
along the page.
How old will I be before I come of age for you?
I get up, I get down.
I get up, I get down.
I get up, I get down.
IV. Seasons Of Man
along the page.
How old will I be before I come of age for you?
I get up, I get down.
I get up, I get down.
I get up, I get down.
IV. Seasons Of Man
As I went a walking
One morning in spring
I met with some travelers
On an old country lane
One was an old man
The second a maid
The third was
A maid
A man needs a maid
A maid
It's hard to make that change
When life and love turns strange
And old
To give a love, you gotta live a love
A maid
A man needs a maid
A maid
It's hard to make that change
When life and love turns strange
And old
To give a love, you gotta live a love
An old man came courting me
Hey do a dority
An old man came courting me
Me being young
An old man came courting me
All for to marry me
Maids
Minute Maid
Minute Maid
(Hmmmmm)
Steppin in it like a new house
Fo I even hit the flo
Hit the locks up on the doe
Take my shoes off
Know a nigga
pain in my heart
You treat me just like your maid
Or one of your spare car parts
You've got a medal it's made of metal
You've got a metal heart no
and I eat fast foods
I contain multitudes
Pink petal-pushers, red blue jeans
All the pretty maids, and all the old queens
All the old queens from
I was thinkin' that maybe I'd get a maid
Find a place nearby for her to stay
Just someone to keep my house clean
Fix my meals and go away
Afraid
Maid
But I've never been that minute man
I'm in it to amaze cudi killed the track
The flowers in the vase
Dude so cold you could put him in a grave
Here
Romance, a play boy who is born each spring
To teach the nightingale to sing
A very pretty song: "I love you".
Romance, a legend on an old
In London town where I was born
There lived a fair maid dwelling
Made every youth cry well away
And her name was Barbara Allen
I sent a servant
the elf-knight's broken
As the rose is blown
'It's a very strange matter, fair maid' said he
Fine flowers in the valley
'I cannot blow my horn, but you call
twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion, her sin is her
Long long ago in old Wyoming lived a maid
Fair as the sweetest flower bloomin' in the shade
She loved a bandit bold who roamed the prairie o'er
tonight on Desolation Row
Ophelia, she's 'neath the window, for her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid
Now to her,
twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic, she wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion, her sin is her
twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion, her sin is her
she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears
a poor man, a fool or a witty
Don't let her die an old maid but take her out of pity
We had a sister Sally, she was ugly and misshapen
By the time she was
That’s where I was chowing down
When my dear old Mama come home
You never seen two stoners run so fast
Thru the backdoor, quick on our feet
Huffing
his face is red?
Kaw-Liga,that poor old wooden head
Then one day a wealthy customer bought the indian maid
And took her oh so far away, but old
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