Music World
 
Исполнители:
 
 
 
English versionSwitch to English 
Garth Brooks
Garth Brooks


Информация
Настоящее имя Troyal Garth Brooks
Дата рождения 7 февраля 1962 г.
Место рождения Tulsa, Oklahoma, U.S.
Жанры Country
Country Rock
Годы 1984—2001
Лейблы Capitol Records
Big Machine Records
См. также George Strait
Trisha Yearwood
Chris Gaines
Steve Wariner
George Jones
Huey Lewis
Chris LeDoux
Сайт Website



Music World  →  Тексты песен  →  G  →  Garth Brooks  →  Дискография  →  The Hits

Альбом Garth Brooks


The Hits (13.12.1994)
13.12.1994
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
. . .


Written by Kent Blazy, Garth Brooks, Kim Williams

Six o'clock on Friday evening
Momma doesn' t know she's leaving
'Til she hears the screen door slamming
Rubber squealin', gears a-jamming
Local country station just a blaring on the radio
Pick him up at seven and they're headin' to the rodeo
Momma's on the front porch screamin' out her warning
Girl you better get your red head
Back in bed before the morning

Nine o'clock the show is ending
But the fun is just beginning
She knows he's anticipating
But she's gonna keep him waiting
Grab a bite to eat
And then they're heading to the honkey tonk
But loud crowds and line dancing
Just ain't what they really want
Drive out to the boondocks and park down by the creek
And where it's George Strait 'til real late
And dancing cheek to cheek

Ain't going down 'til the sun comes up
Ain't givin' in 'til they get enough
Going 'round the world in a pickup truck
Ain't goin' down 'til the sun comes up

Ten 'til twelve is wine and dancing
Midnight starts the hard romancing
One o'clock that truck is rocking
Two is coming, still no stopping
Break to check the clock at three
They're right on where they want to be
Four o'clock get up and going
Five o'clock that rooster's crowing

Ain't going down 'til the sun comes up
Ain't givin' in 'til they get enough
Going 'round the world in a pickup truck
Ain't goin' down 'til the sun comes up

Six o'clock on Saturday
Her folks don't know he's on his way
The stalls are clean, the horses fed
They say she's grounded 'til she's dead
Well here he comes around the bend
Slowing down, she's jumping in
Hey mom, you're daughter's gone
And there they go again

Ain't going down 'til the sun comes up
Ain't givin' in 'til they get enough
Going 'round the world in a pickup truck

. . .


Written by Dewayne Blackwell, Bud Lee

Blame it all on my roots
I showed up in boots
And ruined your black tie affair
The last one to know
The last one to show
I was the last one
You thought you'd see there
And I saw the surprise
And the fear in his eyes
When I took his glass of champagne
And I toasted you
Said, honey, we may be through
But you'll never hear me complain

'Cause I've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I've got friends in low places

Well, I guess I was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, I've been there before
Everything's all right
I'll just say goodnight
And I'll show myself to the door
Hey, I didn't mean
To cause a big scene
Just give me an hour and then
Well, I'll be as high
As that ivory tower
That you're livin' in

'Cause I've got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis
Oh, I've got friends in low places

3rd Verse:
I guess I was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, I've been there before
And everything is alright
I'll just say goodnight
And I'll show myself to the door
I didn't mean to cause a big scene
Just wait 'til I finish this glass
Then sweet little lady
I'll head back to the bar

. . .


Written by: Dennis Linde

I spent last night in the arms
Of a girl in Louisiana
And though I'm out on the highway
My thoughts are still with her
Such a strange combination of a woman and a child
Such a strange situation stoppin' every hundred miles
Callin' Baton Rouge

A replay of last night's events
Roll through my mind
Except a scene or two
Erased by sweet red wine
And I see a truck stop sign ahead
So I change lanes
I need a cup of coffee
And a couple dollars change
Callin' Baton Rouge

Operator won't you put me on through
I gotta' send my love down to Baton Rouge
Hurry up won't you put her on the line
I gotta' talk to the girl just one more time

Hello Samantha dear, I hope you're feelin' fine
And it won't be long until I'm with you all the time
But until then I'll spend my money up right down to my last dime
Callin' Baton Rouge

Operator won't you put me on through
I gotta' send my love down to Baton Rouge
Hurry up won't you put her on the line
I gotta' talk to the girl just one more time

Callin' Baton Rouge

. . .


Written by Garth Brooks, Victoria Shaw

You know a dream is like a river
Ever changin' as it flows
And a dreamer's just a vessel
That must follow where it goes
Trying to learn from what's behind you
And never knowing what's in store
Makes each day a constant battle
Just to stay between the shores.. and

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Too many times we stand aside
And let the waters slip away
'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow
Has now become today
So don't you sit upon the shoreline
And say you're satisfied
Choose to chance the rapids
And dare to dance the tide.. yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

And there's bound to be rough waters
And I know I'll take some falls
But with the good Lord as my captain
I can make it through them all.. yes

I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

Yes, I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry

. . .


Written by Garth Brooks, R. Taylor

This ol' highway's getting longer
Seems there ain't no end in sight
To sleep would be best, but I just can't afford to rest
I've got to ride in Denver tomorrow night

I called the house but no one answered
For the last two weeks no one's been home
I guess she's through with me, to tell the truth I just can't see
What's kept the woman holding on this long

And the white line's getting longer and the saddle's getting cold
I'm much too young to feel this damn old
All my cards are on the table with no ace left in the hole
I'm much too young to feel this damn old

The competition's getting younger
Tougher broncs, you know I can't recall
The worn out tape of Chris LeDoux, lonely women and bad booze
Seem to be the only friends I've left at all

And the white line's getting longer and the saddle's getting cold
I'm much too young to feel this damn old
All my cards are on the table with no ace left in the hole
I'm much too young to feel this damn old


. . .


Written by Pat Alger, Garth Brooks

Three thirty in the morning
Not a soul insight
The city's lookin' like a ghost town
On a moonless summer night
Raindrops on the windshield
There's a storm moving in
He's headin' back from somewhere
That he never should have been
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

Every light is burnin'
In a house across town
She's pacin' by the telephone
In her faded flannel gown
Askin' for miracle
Hopin' she's not right
Prayin' it's the weather
That's kept him out all night
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

The thunder rolls
And the lightnin' strikes
Another love grows cold
On a sleepless night
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls

She's waitin' by the window
When he pulls into the drive
She rushes out to hold him
Thankful he's alive
But on the wind and rain
A strange new perfume blows
And the lightnin' flashes in her eyes
And he knows that she knows
And the thunder rolls
And the thunder rolls

The thunder rolls
And the lightnin' strikes
Another love grows cold
On a sleepless night
As the storm blows on
Out of control
Deep in her heart
The thunder rolls

3rd Verse:
She runs back down the hallway
To the bedroom door
She reaches for the pistol
Kept in the dresser drawer
Tells the lady in the mirror
He won't do this again
Cause tonight will be the last time

. . .


Written by Bryan Kennedy, Jim Rushing

If your paycheck depends on
The weather and the clock
If your conversation calls for
A little more than a coffee pot
If you need to pour your heart out
And try to rectify some situation
That you're facing
Contact your American Honky-Tonk Bar Association

When Uncle Sam dips in your pocket
For most things you don't mind
But when your dollar goes to all of those
Standing in a welfare line
Well rejoice you have a voice
If you're concerned about the destination
Of this great nation
It's called the American Honky-Tonk Bar Association

It represents the hardhat
Gunrack, achin'-back
Over taxed, flag-wavin', fun-lovin' crowd
They're heart is in the music
And they love to play it loud
There's no forms or applications
There's no red tape administrations
It's the American Honky-Tonk Bar Association

We're all one big family
Throughout the cities and the towns
We don't reach for handouts
we reach for those who are down
And every local chapter has a seven day a week
Available consultation
For your frustration
It's called the American Honky-Tonk Bar Association

It represents the mud flaps
Six pack, beer crack
Over-taxed, flag-wavin', fun-lovin' crowd
They're heart is in the music
And they love to play it loud
There's no forms or applications
There's no red tape administrations

. . .


Written by Larry Bastian, Garth Brooks, Sandy Mahl-Brooks

She swears there's nothing wrong, but something's missing
She's never been much good at telling lies
'Cause you can hear the sound of leaving, if you listen
This may be California, but Oklahoma's in her eyes

I've got a good thing going
It's plain to see she's tired of hanging on
I've got a good thing going
It's killing me that she's as good as gone

By now she must be tired of always giving
And tired of what she's getting in return
I guess Oklahoma's more her style of living
'Cause I can see her heart is heading 'cross a bridge I thought she'd burned

I've got a good thing going
It's plain to see she's tired of hanging on
I've got a good thing going
It's killing me that she's as good as gone


. . .


Written by Pat Alger, Larry Bastian, Garth Brooks

Just the other night a hometown football game
My wife and I ran into my old high school flame
And as I introduced them the past came back to me
And I couldn't help but think of the way things used to be

She was the one that I'd wanted for all times
And each night I'd spend prayin' that God would make her mine
And if he'd only grant me this wish I wished back then
I'd never ask for anything again

Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he doesn't answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers

She wasn't quite the angel that I remembered in my dreams
And I could tell that time had changed me
Inn her eyes too it seemed
We tried to talk about the old days
There wasn't much we could recall
I guess the Lord knows what he's doin' after all

And as she walked away and I looked at my wife
And then and there I thanked the good Lord
For the gifts in my life

Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers
Remember when you're talkin' to the man upstairs
That just because he may not answer doesn't mean he don't care
Some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers

Some of God's greatest gifts are all too often unanswered...

. . .


Written by Garth Brooks, Jenny Yates

We call them cool
Those hearts that have no scars to show
The ones that never do let go
And risk the tables being turned

We call them fools
Who have to dance within the flame
Who chance the sorrow and the shame
That always comes with getting burned

But you've got to be tough when consumed by desire
'Cause it's not enough just to stand outside the fire

We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall

We call them weak
Who are unable to resist
The slightest chance love might exist
And for that forsake it all

They're so hell-bent on giving ,walking a wire
Convinced it's not living if you stand outside the fire

Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire

There's this love that is burning
Deep in my soul
Constantly yearning to get out of control
Wanting to fly higher and higher
I can't abide
Standing outside the fire

Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived
If you're standing outside the fire

Standing outside the fire
Standing outside the fire
Life is not tried, it is merely survived

. . .


Written by Larry Bastian

His eyes are cold and restless
His wounds have almost healed
And she'd give half of Texas
Just to change the way he feels
She knows his love's in Tulsa
And she knows he's gonna go
Well, it ain't no woman, flesh and blood
It's that damned old rodeo

Well, it's bulls and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles
The gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's the ropes and the reins
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing rodeo

She does her best to hold him
When his love comes to call
But his need for it controls him
And her back's against the wall
And it's "So long girl, I'll see you"
When it's time for him to go
You know the woman wants her cowboy
Like he wants his rodeo

Well, it's bulls and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles
The gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's the ropes and the reins
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing rodeo

It'll drive a cowboy crazy
It'll drive the man insane
And he'll sell off everything he owns
Just to pay to play her game
And a broken home and some broken bones
Is all he'll have to show
For all the years that he spent chasin'
This dream they call rodeo

Well, it's bulls and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles
The gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's the ropes and the reins
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing rodeo

It's the broncs and the blood
It's the steers and the mud

. . .


Written by Pat Alger, Garth Brooks

Last time I saw her it was turnin' colder
But that was years ago
Last I heard she had moved to Boulder
But where she's now, I don't know
But there's somethin' 'bout this time of year
That spins my head around
Takes me back, makes me wonder
What she's doin' now

'Cause what she's doin' now is tearin' me apart
Fillin' up my mind and emptying my heart
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows
And I wonder if she knows what she's doin' now

Just for laughs, I dialed her old number
But no one knew her name
Hung up the phone, sat there and wondered
If she'd ever done the same
I took a walk in the evenin' wind
To clear my head somehow
But tonight I lie here thinkin'
Wha's she doin' now

'Cause what she's doin' now is tearin' me apart
Fillin' up my mind and emptying my heart
I can hear her call each time the cold wind blows

. . .


Written by Garth Brooks, Stephanie Davis

This ain't comin' from no prophet
Just an ordinary man
When I close my eyes I see
The way this world shall be
When we all walk hand in hand

When the last child cries for a crust of bread
When the last man dies for just words that he said
When there's shelter over the poorest head
We shall be free

When the last thing we notice is the color of skin
And the first thing we look for is the beauty within
When the skies and the oceans are clean again
Then we shall be free

We shall be free
We shall be free
Stand straight, walk proud
'Cause we shall be free
When we're free to love anyone we choose
When this world's big enough for all different views
When we all can worship from our own kind of pew
Then we shall be free
We shall be free

We shall be free
Have a little faith
Hold out
'Cause we shall be free

And when money talks for the very last time
And nobody walks a step behind
When there's only one race and that's mankind
Then we shall be free

We shall be free
We shall be free
Stand straight, walk proud, have a little faith, hold out
We shall be free

We shall be free
We shall be free
Stand straight, have a little faith


. . .


Written by Garth Brooks, Kim Williams

Papa drove a truck nearly all his life
You know it drove mama crazy being a trucker's wife
The part she couldn't handle was the being alone
I guess she needed more to hold than just a telephone
Papa called Mama each and every night
Just to ask her how she was and if us kids were alright
Mama would wait for that call to come in
When Daddy'd hang up she was gone again

Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen

Well, it was bound to happen and one night it did
Papa came home and it was just us kids
He had a dozen roses and a bottle of wine
If he was lookin' to surprise us, he was doin' fine
I heard him cry for Mama up and own the hall
Then I h heard a bottle break against the bedroom wall
That old diesel engine made an eerie sound
When Papa fired it up and headed into town

Well, the picture in the paper showed the scene real well
Papa's rig was buried in the local motel
The desk clerk said he saw it all real clear
He never hit the brakes and he was shifting gears

Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard

. . .


Written by Billy Joel

Well I'm shameless when it comes to loving you
I'll do anything you want me to
I'll do anything at all

And I'm standing here for all the world to see
Oh baby, that's what's left of me
Don't have very far to fall

You know now I'm not a man who's ever been
Insecure about the world I've been living in
I don't break easy, I have my pride
But if you need to be satisfied

I'm shameless, oh honey, I don't have a prayer
Every time I see you standin' there
I go down upon my knees

And I'm changing, swore I'd never compromise
Oh, but you convinced me otherwise
I'll do anything you please

You see in all my life I've never found
What I couldn't resist, what I couldn't turn down
I could walk away from anyone I ever knew
But I can't walk away from you

I have never let anything have this much control over me
I work too hard to call my life my own
I have never let anything have this much control over me
I work too hard to call my life my own
And I've made myself a world and it's worked so perfectly
But it's your world now, I can't refuse
I've never had so much to lose
Oh, I'm shameless

You know it should be easy for a man who's strong
To say he's sorry or admit when he's wrong
I've never lost anything I've ever missed
But I've never been in love like this

It's out of my hands

I'm shameless, I don't have the power now
I don't want it anyhow
So I got to let it go

Oh, I'm shameless, shameless as a man can be
You make a total fool of me
I just wanted to you to know

Oh, I'm shameless, I just wanted you to know

. . .


Written by Bobby Boyd, Warren Haynes, Dennis Robbins

Yes, she's my lady luck
Hey, I'm her wild card man
Together we're buildin' up a real hot hand
We live out in the country
Hey, she's my little queen of the South
Yea, we're two of a kind
Workin' on a full house

She wakes me every mornin'
With a smile and a kiss
Her strong country lovin' is hard to resist
She's my easy lovin' woman
I'm her hard-workin' man, no doubt
Yea, we're two of a kind
Workin' on a full house

Yea, a pickup truck is her limousine
And her favorite dress is her faded blue jeans
She loves me tender when the goin' gets tough
Sometimes we fight just so we can make up

Lord I need that little woman
Like the crops need the rain
She's my honeycomb and I'm her sugar cane
We really fit together
If you know what I'm talkin' about
Yea, we're two of a kind
Workin' on a full house

This time I found a keeper, I made up my mind
Lord the perfect combination is her heart and mine
The sky's the limit, no hill is too steep
We're playin' for fun, but we're playin' for keeps

So draw the curtain, honey
Turn the lights down low
We'll find some country music on the radio
I'm yours and you're mine
Hey, that's what it's all about
Yea, we're two of a kind
Workin' on a full house

Lordy, mama, we'll be two of a kind

. . .


Written by Pat Alger, Garth Brooks, Sandy Mahl-Brooks

I went to work for her that summer
A teenage kid so far from home
She was a lonely widow woman
Hell-bent to make it on her own
We were a thousand miles from nowhere
Wheat fields as far as I could see
Both needing something from each other
Not knowing yet what that might be

'Til she came to me one evening
Hot cup of coffee and a smile
In a dress that I was certain
She hadn't worn in quite a while
There was a difference in her laughter
There was a softness in her eyes
And on the air there was a hunger
Even a boy could recognize

She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover's eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night

That summer wind was all around me
Nothing between us but the night
When I told her that I'd never
She softly whispered that's alright
And then I watched her hands of leather
Turn to velvet in a touch
There's never been a summer
When I have ever learned so much

We had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover's eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night

I often think about that summer
The sweat, the moonlight and the lace
And I have rarely held another
When I haven't seen her face
And every time I pass a wheat field
And watch it dancing with the wind
Although I know it isn't real
I just can't help but feel
Her hungry arms again

She had a need to feel the thunder
To chase the lightning from the sky
To watch a storm with all its wonder
Written in her lover's eyes
She had to ride the heat of passion
Like a comet burning bright
Rushing headlong in the wind
Now where only dreams have been
Burning both ends of the night

Rushing in long in the wind
Now where only dreams have been

. . .


Written by Tony Arata

Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars alone
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I a king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have chanced it all

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

Yes my life is better left to chance

. . .


комментарии публикуются при поддержке Disqus



© 2011 Music World. Все права сохранены.