| Rock and roll became my first impression
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| Before my lips could make a word
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| Those scratchy memories from those old «Sun» sessions
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| Are still the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard
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| I’d tuck my radio beneath my pillow
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| So no one else could hear the minstrels play
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| I soared the heavens on a magic carpet
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| I’d catch the currents and drift away
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| Then suddenly I could be everything
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| I always dreamed I could be
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| Suddenly alone in my fantasy
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| Everything inside of me was singing
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| Music has no borders, no color, no creed
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| Music is the language of my soul
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| A technicolor vision on a black and white screen
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| It will always be, yeah
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| Music and me
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| As I traveled on a young man’s journey
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| I would sing to chase the storms way
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| The only thing that seemed to stop my worrying
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| Was on the stage when I would start to play
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| Then suddenly I could be everything
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| I always dreamed I could be
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| Suddenly the audience was at its feet
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| Everything inside of me was singing
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| Music has no borders, no color, no creed
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| Music is the language of my soul
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| A technicolor vision on a black and white screen
|
| It will always be, yeah
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| Music and me
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| Sing yourself a blue sky when it rains
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| Write yourself a symphony from the pain
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| Here’s a friend whose every word rings true
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| So if you’re down and lost for a song
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| It’s time to find someone to bring out the music in you
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| Music has no borders, no color, no creed
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| Music is the language of my soul
|
| A technicolor vision on a black and white screen
|
| It will always be, yeah
|
| Music has no borders, no color, no creed
|
| Music is the language of my soul
|
| A technicolor vision on a black and white screen
|
| It will always be, yeah
|
| Music and me, oh
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| Music and me, woah
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| Music and me, woah |