REAL CONSERVATIVES

NEVER TOLERATE TYRANNY!....Conservative voices from the GRASSROOTS.

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Image result for doo-wopImage result for doo-wop gif

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CLICK HERE

enjoy:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2sG2yI-9Pqw&list=PLHlSiA_Lj8dd9E...

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I found him by the stage last night 
He was breathing his last breath

A bottle of wine and a cigarette 
Was all that he had left

"I can see you make the music 
'Cause you carry a guitar

God help the troubadour 
Who tries to be a star" 

So play the chords of love, my friend

Play the chords of pain

If you want to keep your song,

Don't, don't, don't, don't play the chords of fame

I seen my share of hustlers
As they try to take the world
When they find their melody
They're surrounded by the girls
But it all fades so quickly
Like a sunny summer day
Reporters ask you questions
They write down what you say

(chorus)

They'll rob you of your innocence
They will put you up for sale
The more that you will find success
The more that you will fail
I been around, I've had my share
And I really can't complain
But I wonder who I left behind
The other side of fame

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Oh the palm trees wave on high all along that fertile shore
Adieu, you Hills of Kerry, I never will see you more
Oh, why did I leave my home, And why did I cross the sea?
And leave the small birds singing around you sweet Tralee

The noble and the brave have departed from your shore
They´ve gone, they've gone to fight the war where the mighty cannons roar
Will they ever again return To see old Ireland free
And hear the small birds singing Around you sweet Tralee

Will I ever see the shamrock, that sprig so fine and grand
Or hear the curlew flying high O'er lowly Banna Strand
As i stand on this foreign shore And think on what might be
Will I ever more return again To see you sweet Tralee

No more I'll see the sunbeams on that precious harvest morn
Or hear our reaper singing in a field of golden corn
There´s a end for every woe and a cure for every pain
But the laughing eye's of my darling girl I never will see again

Oh the palm trees wave on high all along that fertile shore
Adieu, you Hills of Kerry, I never will see you more
Oh, why did I leave my home, And why did I cross the sea?
And leave the small birds singing around you sweet Tralee

And leave the small birds singing around you sweet Tralee

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