Romantic Frenchman:
Zey say nothing lasts forever
But what of her eyes? Why do zey still glimmer in my mind?

Ze sea was rough zat day, but ze pulls of ze waves were nothing to ze swelling passion in ze Heart of my Soul, and ze Soul of my Heart

Would I ever see her again? I dared not ask.
For if not, her gaze would follow me to all ze ends of ze earth...
...ze most beautiful sunset, ze highest mountain,
No, nothing could compare!

Like two candles in ze night, zey still shine...

Jo Rida:
Back again
Haven't set foot in this town
Since I lost both feet in that accident

I left to find my soul
But as I reminisce I'm lifted home to ya...

...a simpler time, or more simpler us
This was before you got hit by that bus

When bullies used to bat you around
But I would never let you fall to the ground

And you would open up to me
Inside of your heart were messages addressed to me

And when I was out rapping, you were back on the streets
Sending out love and picking up treats, oh,

Those were the days gone by
I think about it and I start to cry

I miss that place and I miss those treats
But I think I miss you most of all, mailbox

Chorus:
Time goes by
Larger themes of wistfulness can make you sad
Memories have meaning, some were rad
Some were good
Some were just ok!

They echo as the present melts away...

Boz-Dat
Flying past losers in cruisers
They all wet
Full-kit maxed out on my custom cassettes

No sleep, clipped in, with the bespoke wheels
Slice you with my spokes and leave you down for the eels

I swerve in your lane, like your jeep isn't there
Allen wrench a ride like I don't even care

Single-speed hipsters, keep your bikes in the park
Eels pick at your body in the slime and the dark

I remember training wheels like I remember a scab
Pull 'em off, no flinching, and your jeep's looking drab

Lobby congress for bike lanes in an armani suit
Spit on your grave and ride away, playing the eel flute

Remembering's for peds, not for real bike-riders,
Two-wheeled master race, slicing your jeep's tires

Feel the chain grease on my hands I strangle your throat
Now your body's with the eels that I keep in my moat

Chorus:
Time goes by
Larger themes of wistfulness can make you sad
Memories have meaning, some were rad
Some were good
Some were just ok!

They echo as the present melts away...

A-Boy
I saw my baby on the couch, and went in for a kiss
She stopped me, whispered in my ear
"A-Boy you smell like cat piss"

Fuckin right!
I just got off my third straight double-shift
And for lunch I had my hands in bowls of Kibbles 'n Bits

And shit, it's maddening
My felines with maladies menagerie
My salary's as tiny as the kitties that we're salvaging

But I can't see them drowned up in the Panama Canal again
So Imma spend another day saving all my kitty pals agains

Working long hours, I missed a meteor shower
But I have lives in my hands, that's a veterinarian's power

That's my story Dr. Goldstein, why don't you analyze that?
"But A-Boy I don't understand, what of the cats?"

My memories, don't live like kitties do
They always memba you
Whether things are good or bad
It's just the memories of those cats...

Bruce Springstein/Billy Joel/Elton John Ripoff Guy
Kids were dancing in the park
You had Johnny, and Mindy,
And everybody else
And oh,

You would eat your ice cream with a fork
And we would say why are you doing that?

But oh! It didn't matter on the Fourth of July
'Cause that's when you had your first kiss

Oh, and Mr. Johnson
Took his horse to the tire yard!

And apple pie! And dancing like your mother said she used to do!
When she was young!

But those days are gone, oooooh!
Oooooooh!