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San Jose 3
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tribute to San Jose :-), Burt Bacharach, Joni Mitchell, Cole Porter, and others...
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Creative Commons license
Commercial uses of this track are NOT allowed
Adaptations of this track are NOT allowed to be shared
You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the artist
Jazz - Jazz General
Previous peak charts position #75
Previous peak charts position in subgenre #16
Dave Stahl
2014
February 03, 2014
MP3 4.3 MB
160 kbps bitrate
3:46 minutes
Story behind the song
It was an earworm, and I finally had to do something with it!
Lyrics
I Drive These Highways By Dave Stahl Begun 10-17-13 Burt Bacharach once wrote a song, About this town, but it’s been way too long, Since I Dionne sang those words so sweet, But they’re in my mind when I drive these streets (or “I hear them when I drive these streets...”) When I drive these highways every day, Bumper to bumper from southern San Jose, I travel everywhere around the bay, My thoughts take me even further away. In a video never to be podcast, My thoughts carry me back into the past, To things I couldn’t understand back then, Things I may never comprehend. Back to the days, when I was young, Hoping with all my heart that love would come, There was no map of the heart for me, No telling where my love could be. I met an island girl back when, My first true love who got way under my skin, She broke my heart when she had to go, Where she is now I guess I’ll never know. Now inside the looking glass, I see Wilford Brimley, not the me of past, But inside I’m still a twelve year old, Wondering what my future holds. Bridge It’s a cruel circle game(round and round and round) that father time plays, (he’s a mean old daddy) You can’t ask for a rule change (can’t change the rules) There are never delays (no delays) You can’t call time out (you can’t call time) No two minute warning, (without any warning) You’ll wake up one fine morning, (one morning…your debt must be paid) And find your debt must be paid. In a video clip that won’t be podcast, My thoughts carry me back into the past, To things I couldn’t understand back then, Things I may never comprehend. Back to the days, when I was young, Hoping against hope that love would come, There was no map of the heart for me, No telling where my love might be. From Story and King where the gangstas ride, To the western hills where the wealthy hide East and west across the great divide, I drive these freeways far and wide,
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