Roger Miller Pleasing The Crowd текст песни, слова песни Pleasing The Crowd Roger Miller
Roger Miller - Pleasing The Crowd
Maybe the band played too loud
The name of the game is pleasing the crowd
And now you're crying on my shoulder
But child for crying out loud
The name of the game is pleasing the crowd
You can never make 'em all happy
You just try to keep tryin'
Your shackles and freedoms are all in your mind
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