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Don Henley
Don Henley


Background information
Birth name Donald Hugh Henley
Born July 22, 1947
Born place Gilmer, Texas, United States
Genre(s) Rock
Country
Years active 1970—present
Label(s) Asylum Records
Geffen Records
Associated acts Eagles
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  D  →  Don Henley  →  Albums  →  I Can't Stand Still

Don Henley Album


I Can't Stand Still (08/13/1982)
08/13/1982
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La Eile (instrumental)
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. . .



I know you love me
You know I love you too
You know I always will
No matter what you do

You say you haven't got another lover
You say you only want to make the scene
Then you try to keep it under cover
What does that mean?

And baby, I can't stand still (while he's holding you)
I can't stand (while he's kissing you)

So we got a little problem, baby:
How to put together love and work
If I could figure out that one, darlin'
I could save us from a world of hurt

I remember when we walked together
Makin' love on a summer night
Guess we thought that it would last forever
We were all right

But baby, I can't stand still (while he's holding you)
I can't stand still (while he's touching you)

I can take it if you need some freedom
Understand it if you miss your friends
Don't you ever try to think of me some
You never tell me where you've been

You say you haven't got another lover
You say you only want to make the scene
Then you try to keep it under cover
What does that mean?

And baby, I can't stand still (while he's holding you)
I can't stand still (while he's kissing you)
And baby, I can't stand still (while he's holding you)
I can't stand still (while he's touching you)
I can't stand still


. . .



Out here in the country where the weather gets so mean She thinks about the places that she ain't never seen She knows that she's married but she can't remember why and she wonders what it might feel like with some other guy
And though she's hotter than an oven just to fill your lovin' cup If a man answers, you better hang up
You better hang up You better hang up You better hang up You better hang up
You're from New York City where they don't say no prayers Anything goes and nobody cares And the country girl might thrill ya but you better pass her by 'Cause her ol' man love to kill ya for the look that's in your eye
And though you're hotter than an oven just to fill her lovin' cup If a man answers, you better hang up
You better hang up You better hang up You better hang up You better hang up


. . .



Oh, it's cold and lonely here-
here in this telephone booth
There's three sides to every story:
Yours and mine and the cold, hard truth
I think there's something missing 'round here
I don't know where it's gone
But it's a long way back home

The heat don't work
The toaster don't work
The car don't work
And I guess I know why
This house don't work and this dream don't
work no more
And lover, neither do you and I
I fall asleep with the colors flying
Over sand and foam
But it's a long way back home

And it's a long way back home
And it's a long way back home
It's a long way back home


. . .



I went out in the darkness
Just searching for someplace to be
Wasn't looking for trouble
I guess it was looking for me
And I knew I was wasting my time
But it was nobody's business
Nobody's business but mine

I was taking some comfort
I needed a break from the rain
I guess I was mistaken
And someone remembered my name
But I knew I was doin' just fine
And it was nobody's business
Nobody's business but mine

Well I guess for some
Revenge is sweet
Though it be once removed
I hope you feel better
I don't know what you proved

Well, yonder comes the Emperor, boys
He sure looks fine in blue
I hope you feel better, babe
I know you're scared too

Well it sure makes you wonder
The things that some people will say
They can see black and white but they
don't seem to notice the gray

What a price for a victimless crime
When it was nobody's business
Nobody's business but mine
Yeah, it was nobody's business
Nobody's business but mine


. . .



When the hot September sun down in Texas
has sucked the streams bone dry
and turned to roads to dust-
In the sleepy little towns down in Texas,
the shades are all pulled down;
the streets are all rolled up.
The only thing that breaks the silence
are the trucks a-passin' by
And late at night on the front porch swing
you can hear a mournful sigh
The lonesome whippoorwill cries to the stars above
He was callin' out for his lady love
She's been gone so long

I was just talkin' to the moon
Hopin' someday soon that I'd be over
the memory of you-too hard to hold

And the wind across the plains
is all that now remains
The night shakes loose the names
But they never quite go back the way they came

So, good-bye rodeo
It's a long, funny way for a man to go
and never change-
And never change at all

I was just talkin' to the moon
Hopin' someday soon that I'd be over
the memory of you- too hard to hold on

I was just talkin' to the moon
Hopin' someday soon that I'd be over the
memory of you


. . .



"I make my living off the Evening News
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry

Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I don't have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry

Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em all around

We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
comes on at five
She can tell you 'bout the plane crash with a gleam
in her eye
It's interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry

Can we film the operation?
Is the head dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a
running bet
Get the widow on the set!
We need dirty laundry

You don't really need to find out what's going on
You don't really want to know just how far it's gone
Just leave well enough love
Eat your dirty laundry

Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down

Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're stiff
Kick 'em all around

Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybody's pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry

We can do "The Innuendo"
We can dance and sing
When it's said and done we haven't told you a thing
We all know that Crap is King
Give us dirty laundry!


. . .



Football, baseball, basket ball games
Drinkin' bear, kickin' ass and takin' down names
(Well-a) top down, get-a-round, shootin' the line
Summer is here and Johnny's feelin' fine

But Johnny can't read
Summer is over and he's gone to seed
Johnny can't read
He never learned nothin' that he'll ever need

Well, Johnny can dance and Johnny can love
Johnny can push and Johnny can shove
Johnny can hang out; Johnny can talk tough
Johnny can get down and Johnny can throw up-

But Johnny can't read
Summer is over and he's gone to seed
(You know that), Johnny can't read
He never learned nothin' that he'll ever need-
Well, is it Teacher's fault? Oh No!
Couple year's later, Johnny's on the run
Johnny got confused and he bought himself a gun
Well, he went and did something that he shouldn't
oughta done
F.B.I. on his tail
"Use A Gun-Go To Jail"
But Johnny can't read
Summer is over and he's gone to seed
(You know that), Johnny can't read
He never learned nothin' that he'll ever need-
Well is is Teacher's fault? Oh No
Is it Mommie's fault? Oh No
Is it the President's fault? Oh No
Well is it Johnny's fault? Oh No!

Johnny can dance and Johnny can love
Johnny can push and Johnny can shove
Johnny can pinball; Johnny can talk tough
Johnny can get down and Johnny can throw up

Well, recess is over
Recess is over!

Sitcoms, "T.&A."
Johnny's mind is blown away
Cop shows, horror flicks
Johnny's mind is full of it
Etc...


. . .



One finger on the button
one finger up his nose
Johnny's in some cornfield
The Early Warning Blows

Bigger is better
More is more
Look up, America!
Gonna even up the score

Get ready boys
Third times a charm
Don't need no sweater
It's gonna keep you warm
If we can't have the ball, there won't be any winner
this time

Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust

If forty-five minutes
It'll all be done
We'll all be good and crispy
But we'll still be number one

And if things go from bad to worse
We can still kill them if they kill us first
If we can't have the ball, there won't be any winner
this time

Hell-bent
Heaven sent
It all got started by an accident
If we can't have the ball, there won't be any winner
this time

Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust

Them and us
Them and us
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust


. . .

La Eile

[No lyrics]

. . .



Like every young man, I had some things that I
wanted to say
Ere I could begin, you know the world got
in my way

Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby
To open the window and reel the fair wind
Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby again
We spend so much time weeping and wailing and
shaking our fists
Creating enemies that really don't exist

Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby-
To open the window and feel the fair wind
Oh Lilah, to sleep like a baby again

All these comings and goings that cut like a knife
These small, simple pleasures that make up a life
A man needs a home, and a child, and a wife
to always be there-always

After I'm gone, there are some things that I know
I will miss:
The taste of your mouth, the smell of the perfume
on your wrist Oh, Lilah, the fields lie fallow
Whate'r ye sow, so shall ye reap
Oh Lilah, this ground we hallow
is ours to tend, but not to keep

Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah Lilah
Too-rah, loo-rah, loo-rah lay
Now, while all the streets are silent
Take my hand and come away


. . .



O they tell me of a home far beyond the skies
O they tell me of a home far away
O they tell me of a place where no storm clouds rise
O they tell me of an uncloudy day
O they tell me of a place where my friends
have gone
O they tell me of that land far away
Where the Tree of Life in eternal bloom
Sheds its fragrance on an uncloudy day

O the land of cloudless day
O the land of an uncloudy sky
O they tell me of a place where no storm clouds rise
O they tell me of uncloudy day

O they tell me that He smiles on His children there
And His smile drives their sorrows away
And they tell me that no tears ever come again
In that lovely land of uncloudy day

O the land of cloudless day
O the land of an uncloudy day
O they tell me of a place where no storm clouds rise
O they tell me of an uncloudy day
O they tell me of an uncloudy day
O they tell me of an uncloudy day
O they tell me of an uncloudy day


. . .


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