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By The Byrds, Oh, how is it that I could come out to
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By The Byrds, All I Really Want To Do
I ain't lookin' to compete
-
By The Byrds, The river flows, it flows to the sea.
Wherever that
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By The Byrds, C.T.A.102 year
Over year receiving you
Signals tell us that you're there
We
-
By The Byrds, Always alone, never with a herd.
Prettiest mare I've ever seen'
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By The Byrds, Far between sundown's finish
An' midnight's broken toll
We ducked inside
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By The Byrds, Don't doubt yourself, babe
Let your feet stand up
For your beliefs
-
By The Byrds, The eastern world, it is explodin'.
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'.
Your old
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By The Byrds, Everybody has been burned before
Everybody knows the pain
Anyone in this
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By The Byrds, Have you seen her face
Her eyes reflect the colors in
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By The Byrds, Daytime just makes me feel lonely
At night I can only
-
By The Byrds, I come and stand at every door
But no one hears
-
By The Byrds, I'd like to love you
With all of my heart
You've had
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By The Byrds, (Written By Roger McGuin - 1971)
In times of despair
I
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By The Byrds, The reason why I can't say
Gotta let you go
-
By The Byrds, Like a silent ray of sunlight
Catching in my eye
Like a
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By The Byrds, It's no use use saying
Your gonna stay
If you don't want
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By The Byrds, (Written by A. renynolds - 1969)
esus is just alright with
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By The Byrds, Here it comes again,
It's going to happen to me
Here it
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By The Byrds, Once upon a time...
There was a garden
On a high hill
Green
-
By The Byrds, Woke up this morning with light in my eyes
And then
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By The Byrds, Hey Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not
-
By The Byrds, Crimson flames tied through my years
Flowing high and mighty trapped
Countless
-
By The Byrds, Old John Robertson he wore a Stetson hat
People everywhere would
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By The Byrds, Trails of troubles,
Roads of battles,
Paths of victory we shall
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By The Byrds, I think that maybe I´m dreaming...
I smell cinnamon and spices
I
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By The Byrds, Written by Gene Clark - 1965
The first thing that I
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By The Byrds, So, you want to be a rock 'n' roll star
Then
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By The Byrds, Gypsy gal, the hands of Harlem
Cannot hold you to its
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By The Byrds, Oh what will you give me
Say the sad bells of
