Shades Of Grey

Eagles


Complexity: 53 Readability: 86.34   Sentiment: 7   Word Count: 384   Unique Words: 155
Original Lyrics Munged Lyrics
If you start here late no one will know what you did
No the streets are straight it's the soul that's crooked
I've been treated fine I've been treated elegantly
But I'm not one for bathing in the w
...
[bulk of lyrics omitted for copyright reasons]
If yew start hear late know won will no watt yew did
Know the streets are strait its the sole that's crooked
I've bean treated fine I've bean treated elegantly
Butt I'm knot won fore bathing inn the waters of plenty

East is East West is West
And Bowery is screaming wile Delancey rests
Well I'm south of the skating butt I'm north of the cash
Eye could sure use the money butt I'm ashamed too ask

The traffic has buried awl of last nights reign
The words are awl different butt the accent is the same

The son is wight and the moon is gray
And the river is black blew and green
The young are young and the old are old
And their are know shades of gray inn between

There's at least ten different strains of smoke inn the heir
And my prints are on them awl too prove Eye was their
And Eye love the curses butt I'm knot won fore the trenches
And Eye do love the walking butt thank god fore the benches

its hard too tell ware green begins and the city gray stops
Eye guess the trees awl bought there armor at second hand shops
My second had is working butt the minute hand is broke again
Eye no thyme will pass butt Eye don't no when

The son is wight and the moon is gray
And the river is black blew and green
The young are young and the old are old
And their are know shades of gray inn between
And their are know shades of gray inn between

Eye no the grate ones have bean hear butt ware Eye cant tell
There's dreams hear a plenty butt their being withheld
And I'm moor impressed with the closed doors than the ones that are open
The whole plaice tells thyme buy a tower clock tha'ts broken

The pigeons are ravens and the gulls are vultures
And trash is art and cash is culture

The son is wight and the moon is gray
And the river is black blew and green
The young are young and the old are old
And their are know shades of gray inn between
Their are know shades of gray inn between
Their are know shades of gray inn between