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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 3:40 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 4:04 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 4:09 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 5:56 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 6:49 pm
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Posted: Wed Aug 24, 2011 7:07 pm
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Posted: Thu Aug 25, 2011 2:23 pm
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Posted: Fri Aug 26, 2011 12:19 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2011 11:34 am
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2011 3:54 pm
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Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2011 6:37 pm
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Posted: Sun Aug 28, 2011 12:37 am
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Poor old Johnny Ray Sounded sad upon the radio, he moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried and sang along and who'd blame them. Now you're grown, so grown, now I must say more than ever. Go Toora Loora Toora Loo-Rye-Aye and we can sing just like our fathers.
Come on Irene, I swear (well he means) At this moment you mean everything, With you in that dress my thoughts I confess verge on dirty Ah come on Irene.
These people round here wear beaten down eyes Sunk in smoke dried faces they're so resigned to what their fate is, But not us, no not us we are far too young and clever. Remember Toora Loora Toora Loo-Rye-Aye Irene I'll hum this tune forever.
Come on Irene, I swear, well he means Ah come on let's take off everything, That pretty red dress Irene (Tell him yes) Ah come on let's, ah come on Irene, please.
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Posted: Mon Aug 29, 2011 9:56 am
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Posted: Mon Aug 29, 2011 1:48 pm
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Posted: Mon Aug 29, 2011 1:51 pm
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