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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)
I've got a fever, don't breathe on me
I'm a believer in nobody
Won't let me leave 'cause I've seen something
Hope I don't sneeze, I don't
Really we just need to fear something
Only pretending to feel something
I know you're dying to run
I wanna turn you around
And there's nothing wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make-believe
That don't believe in me
I swear that I can go on forever again
Please let me know that my one bad day will end
I will go down as your lover, your friend
Give me your lips, and with one kiss, we begin
I waited eight long months, she finally set him free
I told him I couldn't lie, he was the only one for me
Two weeks and we had caught on fire
She's got it out for me, but I wear the biggest smile
I tried to be perfect
But nothing was worth it
I don't believe it makes me real
I thought it'd be easy
But no one believes me
I meant all the things I said
If you believe it's in my soul
I'd say all the words that I know
Just to see if it would show
That I'm trying to let you know
That I'm better off on my own
I dance around this empty house
Tear us down
Throw you out
Screaming down the halls
Spinning all around and now we fall
Pictures framing up the past
Your taunting smirk behind the glass
This museum full of ash
Once a tickle
Now a rash
You wake up late for school, man you don't want to go
You ask you mom, please? but she still says, no
You missed two classes, and no homework
But your teacher preaches class like you're some kind of jerk
"(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party)" - my favorite song from The Beastie Boys.
shareWell it's the M-I, crooked letter, ain't no one better
And when I'm on the microphone you best to wear your sweater
'Cause I'm cooler than a polar bear's toenails
Oh hell, there he go again talkin' that shit
Bend, corner's like I was a curve, I struck a nerve
And now you 'bout to see this Southern player serve
I heard it's not where you're from but where you pay rent
Then I heard it's not what you make but how much you spent
You got me bent like elbows, amongst other things, but I'm not worried
'Cause when we step up in the party, like a mouse-you-scurry
So go get your fuckin' shine box, and your sack of nickels
It tickles to see you try to be like Mr. Pickles
Daddy fat sacks, B-I-G B-O-I
It's that same motherfucker that took them knuckles to your eye
And I try, to warn you not to test but you don't listen
Givin' the shout out to my Uncle Donnel locked up in prison (yeah)