![]() Your head falls over, your petals close, dandelion. Unlike the other flowers, you won’t bloom in a vase. Dandelion, you dream of stars, dream of travel, of going far. You ride the wind, scatter seeds, float and drift, go where you please. You hold another world inside each feathered plume. Dandelion, you are a wish waiting for a child’s breath. Dandelion, you are a moon, a soft white sphere of stars, a wand of parachutes. Your tiny rays of hope bloom for everyone. If god’s so good why don’t he have soul? Don’t he hear the music? Want to lose control? Feel the good vibrations? Want to rock and roll? If god’s so good why don’t he have soul? Why should the devil get all the tunes? The songs that make you sweat, the songs that make you move, the songs that make you feel like you got nothing to lose? Why should the devil get all the tunes? And why should the devil keep me up at night? Whisper in my ear make me do what I like? Sounding so wrong but feeling so right? Why should the devil keep me up at night? CHORUS / REPEAT FIRST VERSEĭandelion, you are a sun. I think the devil is a music man. Why should the devil get all the good tunes? Does he sing ‘em on Sunday in those dim lit rooms? Rockin' out the jukebox making bad men swoon? Why should the devil get all the good tunes? And why should the devil want to steal my soul? This wretched ball of lonesome and this need to be whole? Just a lost little puppy always looking for a home? Why should the devil want to steal my soul? CHORUS. Why should the devil get all the good tunes? And why should the devil have all the real fun? The fire and the freedom and the coming undone? The Saturday nights and the beating of the drums? Why should the devil have all the real fun? CHORUS: My mama told me that the devil likes to dance, dressed up in the shadows always looking for his chance, snake in the garden wanna change my plans. Why should the devil get all the good tunes? The booze and the neon and the rhythm and blues? The swaying in the darkness and the lovers like spoons. Why Should the Devil - inspired by the poem "Triolet on a Line Apocryphally Ascribed to Martin Luther" by A.E. I look at you, our baby in your arms, this dream we have to hold. ![]() Still how they carry false promises of fame, false promised of gold. The winds have changed, that much we know. I hear her singing just for the beauty of being here. She sings her song for the beauty of being here. The ghost from the cafe, she sings her truth, she knows the way. We pass an old cafe, sign says closed for the day. You touch my cheek and tell me we’ll just have to make our own. Through the maze of open doors, we follow breathless and unsure, and I sigh, and say, we’ll never have the money to take one home. A woman walks ahead, her fancy boots, her long fur vest. We walk past visions cast in bronze, brushed on canvas, carved and living in the stone. This famous street with its galleries and gardens, our new baby in your arms. Here in the dust and in the stone, I hear old and new dreams calling. When the wind blows down Canyon Road, I hear the whispers of desert ghosts. Can’t let them go, but are they ever gonna fly? I’ve held to these dreams, but my dreams have grown colder. Darling, I don’t blame you for this place inside that’s hollow, but I can’t forgive you for just standing by. Can’t let them go, but are they ever gonna fly? I was raised to be gentle, I was raised to follow, find me a good man and never leave his side. ![]() The things that I’ve lost, I ain’t ever gonna find. But life is a game, and it spits you out in pieces. I felt something in me that was promising to shine. Can’t let them go, but are they ever gonna fly? When I was young, I knew which road to travel. ![]() The fire is just coals now, the last memories of light. I had a flame, I did my best to keep it burning. Lines on my skin, worn out look in my eyes. I have learned to manage.I look in the mirror and I see the years have changed me. These New York City streets getting colder, I shoulder Tryin' to reach my goal, my power of speech: unimpeachable I'm a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal The problem is I got a lot of brains, but no polish I probably shouldn't brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish (Burr), Anthony Ramos (Laurens), Lafayette, Mulligan. "My Shot" is a song from the Broadway musical Hamilton performed by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton), Leslie Odom Jr. ![]()
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