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You're not shy you get around....Got fire in your veins... Burning hot but you don't feel the pain....Answer. Urgent by Foreigner
**(IF THE SONG IS TOUGH....Give the Decade or a hint)
1970's
You didn't know that rock and roll burned
So you bought a candle and you lived and you learned
You got the rhythm you got the speed
Mama's little baby likes it short and sweet
"Once Bitten, Twice Shy" - Great White (I think Ian Hunter did the original version, maybe? I heard it years ago, but not for a long, long time).
I hate what happened to Great White. They had some great songs. Mark Kendall was the lead guitarist for them...I always liked his playing.
Yes. Jack Russel of Great White died yesterday.
And yes Ian Hunter did original.
I didn't know Jack Russell had passed away until late yesterday. Too sad... been a tough week for me with "celebrity deaths"...Peter Marshall, Greg Kihn, Gena Rowlands (I loved her "Monk" episode), and Russell.
shareI'm just finding out about Greg Khin's death now, with your post... wow... no disrespect intended for Jack Russel, but Kihn should have gotten the headlines...
shareHot butter and chrome and a little homegrown.
shareSentimental fool, am I
To hear a old love song and wanna cry
But the melody keeps calling me
Reminding me how in love we used to be
Keep hearing the part that used to touch our heart
Saying together forever, breaking up never
I sat down with her and she told me her story.
I told her I loved her and I just wanted to support her through her recovery.
Through conversations, I listened, and I feel like this is the best way to interpret what she told me.
The devil found clever way to infiltrate and bring his manipulation;
a slender blonde in a cocktail dress struggling through the intoxication
brought on by the gifting of drinks until she was ready to payback in the bedroom.
In the search to appease the demons in her head on a sterile surface in the bathroom.
Looking into a half cracked half filthy mirror hoping she doesn’t reflect
that half cracked and half filthy receding stain of a smile her mother made when she left
because the promises she made to herself seem to be the hardest ones to keep
and knowing she survived the last storm was no longer all she needed to be able to fall asleep.
Vacant wine glasses and late night crashes symbolic of her vessel with no presentation at the pallet,
but a spirit starving for remembrance some sort of legacy other than her occupation.
Because her normal skin looked like silk but had been masked by vengeance.
Baggage under her eyes deep within her overcompensating lies and all she saw
when she gazed into the endless skies was regret from that manipulation.
This life of sleeping through the static of practice for the everlasting rush she hoped for,
she was somewhat ecstatic, but not for the first time.
Because this was reminiscent of those times that she would have those late night drives;
Those moments when she would look back and say “How did I get here?”
Those moments when she would look at old childhood photos and say “How did that child grow up to be like this?”
When did I dismiss the morals that I subscribed to? I don’t know what to do.
And she looks at photos of her beautiful mother in her youth and is envious of that smile she had when she was twenty-two.
And she wishes she could say the same for herself but she’s lived in a self-perpetuated hell.
My, my what a mess we've made
of our pretty little heads these days
it appears a heavy wind's blown through here recently
best wishes have been made for you
you never had no say it's true
you have to be the cutest gravedigger i've ever seen
The squirrels and the birds come
Gather around to sing the guitar
Oh, I... Have you got nothing to say?
When all words fail, she speaks
Her mixtape's a masterpiece