The pub talk, the scandals Like vandals they try to tear you down The whispers, turn rumours There's no truth but that don't stop those cats They need
fifty-first member of a god-awful group Connected by rain they said we?re all the same But I don?t know, I don?t know, if they?re telling the truth
such tears And heaped up leaves of bitterness turned mouldy down the years Nothing but the truth. Common words in use Hard to find excuse Harder than the truth
wise and dumb And understand your culture of freedom Power equally with the Gods So you can build and form your cipher All your life you must teach truth Of the true and living God
truth. [Mama Morton] - The truth? [Roxie Hart] - Yeah. [Mama Morton] That's the one we take you to the death house. [Roxie Hart] Holy mother of God
to make a grown man cry Good God, Almighty, we was panning for gold Down at the banks of mighty Colorado When all of a sudden came an awful sound Ten
my very close companion gets me fumbling gets me laughing she's a hundred but she's wearing something tight and I lift my glass to the Awful Truth which
grace Too awful to taste for the led and the chaste Those whose long fetters are addressed to all saints Free shining souls torn from God's given Reich
of our stairs. Old gentlemen talk / of when they were young / of ladies Lost and erring sons. Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends) pure as the truth
I?m singing this song for my sister Sinead Concerning the god awful mess that she made When she told them her truth just as hard as she could Her message
problems, I've got too many of them Throw away your yesterdays, I did it all for you Blank horizons and hotels rooms Cheap Whiskey and god-awful truths
beat on you with words and with actions I will never tell the truth in dead aloof with that you are my fraction Oh God, I have made such an awful regret
Much stranger than fiction The truth can open up your eyes Angels walk among us In every shape and size Might be a bum on Broadway That God sends to
am the leader of a revolution, the betterment of music is embedded in they head and chest, and the entire unit. It's by pupils to require truth, and God
mouth for Me I'm so full of rage so used to being caged I probably shouldn't be outdoors Everybody so scared of the truth Look in my eyes an stare at the truth
'm the 51st member of a god awful group Connected by rain, they said you're all the same But I don't know, I don't know if they're telling the truth Like
beat on you With words and with actions I will never tell the truth In dead aloof With that, you are my fraction Oh god I have made such an awful
-feed the truth The truth is we say not as we do We say anytime, anywhere, just show your teeth and strike the fear Of god wears camouflage, cries