paroles de chanson Madonna On the Curb - Jonatha Brooke
On
the
curb
of
a
city
pavement,
by
the
ash
and
garbage
cans
In
the
stench
of
rolling
thunder
of
motor
trucks
and
vans,
There
sits
a
little
lady
with
brave
but
troubled
eyes,
And
in
her
arms
a
baby
that
cries
and
cries
and
cries
She
cannot
be
more
than
three,
but
the
years
go
fast
in
the
slums,
And
hard
on
the
pangs
of
winter′s
cold,
the
pitiless
summer
comes
The
wails
of
sickly
children
she
knows,
she
understands,
The
pangs
of
puny
bodies,
the
clutch
of
small
hot
hands
The
deadly
blaze
of
August
that
turns
men
faint
and
mad,
She
quiets
the
peevish
urchins
by
telling
of
dreams
she
had
Of
heaven
with
its
marble
stairs,
and
ice
and
singing
fans
And
God
in
white,
so
friendly
there,
just
like
the
drug
store
man
On
the
curb
of
a
city
pavement
by
the
ash
and
garbage
cans
In
the
stench
of
rolling
thunder
of
motor
trucks
and
vans,
There
sits
a
little
lady
with
brave
but
troubled
eyes,
And
in
her
arms
a
baby
that
cries
and
cries
and
cries
So
when
you're
giving
millions
to
Belgian
Pole,
and
Serb,
Remember
my
beautiful
lady,
Madonna
on
the
curb
1 My Sweet and Bitter Bowl
2 You'd Oughta Be Satisfied Now
3 All You Gotta Do Is Touch Me (with Keb' Mo')
4 My Flowers Grow Green
5 Madonna On the Curb
6 There's More True Lovers Than One (with Eric Bazilian)
7 Sweetest Angel (with Glen Phillips)
8 My Battle
9 Little Bird
10 Taste of Danger
11 New Star (with Derek Trucks)
12 Coney Island Intro
13 King of My Love
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