Our fate

Call it magic

Reach any star

Wounded man

Sam he had

Upper hall

Tramps like us

Miracles dance

He took you

Early grave

Not sleepy and

Or in twos

Killed them

Crazy sorrow

Who nearly

Try to explain

Squad restless

Of his eyes

Lonely rider

Den deep

Has returned

Marry happy

Slow napoleon

They took

Tried Sleep