Lyrics


They’re hand in hand, across the street
She’s walking tall, until she spied me
Hair long, jet-black sway
Streetlights show the only way
Hustling in, through the door
Her hand move low, my fists through the floor
She won’t give up, until the day
She gets him back, that’s her play

I won’t have mercy
I don’t care about your heart
You have all the money
And your quaalude car
He’s all mine
Now it’s time
He’s all mine
All the time

You stole him back, to his knees
Down on you, when you please
His mind’s a mess, but that’s ok
It’s not about him, I know your play

Safety’s gone
Match ok
It’s my turn
To have a say

I won’t have mercy
I don’t care about your heart
You have all the money
And your quaalude car
He’s all mine
Now it’s time
He’s all mine
He’s all mine
Now it’s time
He’s all mine
He’s all mine
Now it’s time
He’s all mine
All the time

We’re hand in hand, rambling the street
Let them see, sans boys we keep
Hair long, jet-black sway
Daylight shows, our only way

Safety’s gone
Match ok
It’s our turn
To have our say

She’s all mine
(Won’t have mercy)
It’s our time
(We don’t care)
She’s all mine
(Save you life, if you dare)

She’s all mine
(We’re both over)
It’s our time
(All you say)
She’s all mine
(Getting together, we’re on our way)

She’s all mine
(Not about you)
It’s our time
(Never was)
She’s all mine
(Keeping score)
All the time
(The only plus)

Put your gun down

 


Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant, so
Tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon virgin
Mother and child
Holy infant, so
Tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace

 

GUY | We’re here at the Trump International Golf Links in Scotland…
FRANÇOIS | Gee! Quieter please.
GUY | What?
FRANÇOIS | I said “quieter please.”
GUY | I know you did, but why did you call me “Gee?”
FRANÇOIS | Well that’s your name.
GUY | It’s pronounced “Guy.”
FRANÇOIS | What is?
GUY | My name. We’ve known each other since college. Why are you changing the pronunciation of my name now?
FRANÇOIS | Golfing is a sophisticated game. This isn’t NASCAR…Guy.
GUY | Fine. Who’s on the pole today?
FRANÇOIS | The pole? Oh, you mean the “leader board.” It’s called the leader…
GUY | Just tell me who’s up first?
FRANÇOIS | Seriously? Baseball? You want to call this as a baseball game? Strikeout and all that?
GUY | François, just tell me who is going to hit the damn ball first…

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night.

There she stood in the doorway
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself
“This could be heaven or this could be Hell”
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor
I thought I heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year (any time of year) you can find it here

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes Benz
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the Captain,
“Please bring me my wine”
He said, “we haven’t had that spirit here since nineteen sixty-nine”
And still those voices are calling from far away
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
They livin’ it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise), bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling
The pink champagne on ice
And she said, “we are all just prisoners here, of our own device”
And in the master’s chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can’t kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back to the place I was before
“Relax” said the night man,
“We are programmed to receive.
You can check out any time you like,
But you can never leave!”

FRANÇOIS | Kathryn.
GUY | Kathryn who?
FRANÇOIS | Don’t know. It just says “Kathryn. From Ireland.”
GUY | That’s it?
FRANÇOIS | There’s something about her playing “right-handed.”
GUY | So, she’s a righty? That’s on her biography? Nothing about her last name?
FRANÇOIS | Here’s the quote: “I am not left handed.”
GUY | This is why I like NASCAR. Ricky Bobby from Texas…runs around track in underwear…
FRANÇOIS | That was a movie.
GUY | So Kathryn is up to bat next.
FRANÇOIS | She’s addressing the ball.
GUY | What?
FRANÇOIS | She’s warming up. See how she’s swinging…
GUY | …she just whiffed!
FRANÇOIS | She’s warming up. Had she whiffed, she’d be penalized…
GUY | How is it that she can play in Scotland and not be deported?
FRANÇOIS | Who?
GUY | Kathryn from Ireland.
FRANÇOIS | I can see Ireland from my hotel’s backyard.
GUY | We’re on the east coast of Scotland. All I can see is the ocean…
FRANÇOIS | Metaphorically. I was speaking meta…
GUY | …and how did she get in? Isn’t there a wall. A really big wall to keep people out of Scotland?
FRANÇOIS | I don’t think they have a wall. Maybe a moat.
GUY | That’s a really big moat they built. We flew over it when we were connecting from Dublin.
FRANÇOIS | That was the Irish Sea.
GUY | Exactly.
FRANÇOIS | Anyway, Kathryn just hooked her ball 300 yards into the…
GUY | What is she saying?
FRANÇOIS | She’s talking to her…
GUY | …some type of mask or cover.
FRANÇOIS | It’s the cover on her 3 wood.
GUY | Why is it covered?
FRANÇOIS | To keep it clean and dry.
GUY | Aren’t those things made out of titanium?
FRANÇOIS | She said “we are all just prisoners here, of our own device.”
GUY | We’re prisoners? Is that what the wall is for?!
FRANÇOIS | Moat. They stab it with their steely knives…
GUY | The people are revolting!
FRANÇOIS | You said it.
GUY | Is that why she’s talking into the club cover? It’s actually a spy microphone!
FRANÇOIS | Actually I think it’s a commedia mask.
GUY | What is?
FRANÇOIS | The thing covering her wood.
GUY | I don’t understand a thing she’s saying.
FRANÇOIS | It’s all French.
GUY | It is to me too.
FRANÇOIS | Relax.
GUY | Why should I, there’s a revolution here!
FRANÇOIS | No I meant: the night man said “relax.”
GUY | What night man? The guy on the field?
FRANÇOIS | That’s her caddy. They’re looking for her ball in the rough so…
GUY | …I don’t see a car on the field…
FRANÇOIS | “…but you can never leave.”
GUY | Like hell, I’m out of here.