You don’t get to say who I am
You can think what you want
You can tell your favorite aunt
Just remember – I don’t give a damn
I’ll keep being me
I’ll never fit your fantasy
You don’t get to say who I am
You don’t get to say who I am
You got ideas inside your head
You can put them all to bed
It don't mean a bucket full of spam
I’ll keep being me
I’ll keep on flying free
You don’t get to say who I am
You don’t get to say who I am
So just worry about yourself
It’s so much better for your health
Than talking up a big old mess of sham
I’ll keep being me
I’ll keep on flying free
You don’t get to say who I am
by Richard W. Bray
You did not come,
And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb,—
—Thomas Hardy, A Broken Appointment
I guess I just amused you
But I felt so much more
Wondrous happy singsong
Leading to your door
A kiss, a smile, a rainbow
Aren’t always what they seem
Underneath a streetlamp
Waiting on a dream
Time to face my sorrow
Time to live my fate
The moon is now descending
The hour is getting late
Hope, rejection, heartache —
My never-ending theme
Underneath a streetlamp
Waiting on a dream
Memories immortal
Melodies divine
Radiance and laughter
A moment of your time
A kiss, a smile, a rainbow
Aren’t always what they seem
Underneath a streetlamp
Waiting on a dream
by Richard W. Bray
I'm at the tip of the top
There's a pep in my step
I got the hippity hop
Winning all of my bets
I’m hanging on a hope
Met a special sort of friend
I’m such a silly old dope
Am I falling again?
Gonna get a new start
I’m so happy I could scream
For the bounce in my heart
And the sparkle in my dreams
I’m hanging on a hope
Met a special sort of friend
I’m such a silly old dope
Am I falling again?
By Richard W. Bray
Madly here we go again
Making war to feel like men
All the suffering in the world
Inflicted on a little girl
Everyone you boss around
All the people you push down
The hateful hunger to control
Lord, it takes a mighty toll
Disparage everything they do
Cuz everyone should be like you
That’s how a tyrant runs his home
Cutting children to the bone
Everyone you boss around
All the people you push down
The hateful hunger to control
Lord, it takes a mighty toll
Squeezing every single dime
From their labor and their time
That’s what production’s all about
Plug 'em in and turn it out
Everyone you boss around
All the people you push down
The hateful hunger to control
Lord, it takes a mighty toll
By Richard W. Bray
