this day on, I own my father's gunWe dug

goodbye to Oz and everything you ownCalifornia dreamin' is

morning, morning, in with the

go breaking my couldn't if I honey if

high-flying, high-flying birdMy high-flying, high-flying high-flying birdHas flown

The weather man, he looks confusedShakes his fist at the sky

WILKINSON, get a move on!Everybody positions, pleaseGirls to the

OVERHEAD over seventy years miners of Durham County have

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the bandPretty eyed, pirate

do I got to do to make you love

can't really explain itI haven't got the wordsIt's a

now I know"Spanish Harlem" are not just pretty words

you've been away cavortingMatters here have moved apaceNow I need

is the moment whenThe gods expect me to beg for

all lead such elaborate livesWild ambitions in our sightsHow an

sail away to half discovered placesTo see the secrets so

may leave a great impressionAs I race through a successionOf

Look out new world here we comeBrave, intrepid, and then somePioneers

gonna be a mighty king, so, enemies, I've

Beautiful morning, ahhDown by the river, ahhWithout a warning, ahhWho'd ever