Lyrics:
Same old story, same old song. I've heard that line for way to long
She was right and I was wrong, please come back where you belong
The Same old story
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
Manhattan South Bend Albany Brooklyn - where you coming from?
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
listen to you it's the same story told
It's not location, or patience, that's making me complacent
It's not looking to future for a couple appraises
Every soldier got a story to tell
I done been through it all
Don't ask the way I shoot 'cause I done shot (uggh)
Put a tank on my block
Fiend
It’s the same old, same old story
Boy meets a girl and his world turns upside down
She’s an uptown queen from the north, yeah
He’s small town boy
on the grate in the evening, takes the chill away fine,
Cut the telephone line, the story's the same.
There's a worn red chair by the window that she found
the hand that’s been cut by a double bladder sword
Still everything that I do it’s wrong to you
Same old story forming in your head
Same old history falling
keep on waiting, try again sometime (when I'm too high)
(Ok)
(Alright)
(Hah)
(Right?)
Same old story, tell it back, back, back again
Same old clothes
OF NINETY-THREE
OLD DAN AND SAM AND BILLY JOE FOUND THE MOTHER LODE IT SEEMED
BUT IT'S A LONG LONG WAY FROM DAWSON TO THE COMFORTS OF THE SOUTH
AND OLD DAN GOT
old story retold
And after all she's finally made up her mind
From across the room, I'm beckoned in by your light
There's nothing better than the hand
Every soldier got a story to tell
I done been through it all
Don't ask the way I shoot 'cause I done shot (uggh)
Put a tank on my block
Fiend
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
Manhattan South Bend Albany Brooklyn - where you coming from?
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
Manhattan South Bend Albany Brooklyn - where you coming from?
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
Winter vacation, seventy-three
Drivin’ to Florida in a used RV
Mom, Dad and my old dog, big joe
Didn't think it snowed south of D.C.
Let me tell you a story
Here's what I see when I walk out my room
People facing their destiny, ain't nothing they can do
Stuck in this same old city,
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
Manhattan South Bend Albany Brooklyn - where you coming from?
Africa Port-Au-Prince Knoxville Anvan
cases
P's chase us like horse races
Battin down on all faces
Everyday it's like the same old shit
I ain't goin bit, my motto's like make
This is my story (glory) (my Gloria)
Indaba yami le (glory) (things ain't been the same since you went away)
This is my story (glory)
Indaba yami le
to the grade in the evening
They take the chill away fine.
Cut the telephone line and the story's the same.
There's a worn red chair by the window
That we found
gold frosted or ceramic
Told bro spin it so he spun it
We are not the same, big Mike's from a whole different-
Top bins, what a set piece, fling it in
comes time
Lord I'm going down that same old road again
Hell I'm going down that same old road again
Well If nothing else there's stories in all
o'clock on the dot
Checkin' on my old rock spot
I seen the same old set
Heh, the small timers see me so they jet
Buildin' one-twenty-eight
I got
from this hybrid war
Press, bureaucrats and CEOs make that old story rebound
How many of you remain unharmed in this prospect?
As the rings
female, young or old
It might be in the papers but most stories are never told
Under the sun and moon, days and nights are cold
Death don't discriminate,
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