Pinwheel of Death

J. Fred Coots


SONGS

TERRITORIAL RESTRICTIONS
MAY APPLY TO THIS TITLE.

Writers J. Fred Coots, Sam M. Lewis

Genres Standard, Ballad

Recorded 1957

Lyrics verse 1:
SWEETHEART
THE NIGHT IS GROWING OLD,
SWEETHEART
MY LOVE IS STILL UNTOLD,
A KISS
THAT IS NEVER TASTED
FOREVER AND EVER
IS WASTED.

Chorus:
FOR ALL WE KNOW
WE MAY NEVER
MEET AGAIN,
BEFORE YOU GO
MAKE THIS MOMENT
SWEET AGAIN,
WE WON'T SAY, GOODNIGHT
UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE,
I'LL HOLD OUT MY HAND
AND MY HEART
WILL BE IN IT.
FOR ALL WE KNOW
THIS MAY ONLY BE
A DREAM,
WE COME AND GO
LIKE A RIPPLE
ON A STREAM,
SO LOVE ME TONIGHT,
TOMORROW
WAS MADE FOR SOME,
TOMORROW
MAY NEVER COME,
FOR ALL WE KNOW.

verse 2:
WHY SHOULD WE WASTE
A NIGHT LIKE THIS?
WHY SHOULD WE WASTE
A SINGLE KISS?
WHY CAN'T WE LAUGH
AT TOMORROW?
TOMORROW WILL PAY
WHAT WE BORROW.

Chorus:
FOR ALL WE KNOW
WE MAY NEVER
MEET AGAIN,
BEFORE YOU GO
MAKE THIS MOMENT
SWEET AGAIN,
WE WON'T SAY, GOODNIGHT
UNTIL THE LAST MINUTE,
I'LL HOLD OUT MY HAND
AND MY HEART
WILL BE IN IT.
FOR ALL WE KNOW
THIS MAY ONLY BE
A DREAM,
WE COME AND GO
LIKE A RIPPLE
ON A STREAM,
SO LOVE ME TONIGHT,
TOMORROW
WAS MADE FOR SOME,
TOMORROW
MAY NEVER COME,
FOR ALL WE KNOW.
TERRITORIAL RESTRICTIONS
MAY APPLY TO THIS TITLE.

Writers J. Fred Coots, Charles Kenny, Nick Kenny

Genres Standard, Pop

Recorded 1957

Lyrics ON A DAY LIKE TODAY,
WE PASS THE TIME AWAY
WRITING LOVE LETTERS IN THE SAND.
OH, YOU LAUGHED WHEN I CRIED
EACH TIME I SAW THE TIDE TAKE
OUR LOVE LETTERS IN THE SAND.

YOU MADE A VOW
THAT YOU WOULD ALWAYS BE TRUE.
BUT SOMEHOW,
THAT VOW MEANT NOTHING TO YOU.

NOW MY POOR HEART JUST ACHES
WITH EVERY WAVE THAT BREAKS
OVER LOVE LETTERS IN THE SAND.
TERRITORIAL RESTRICTIONS
MAY APPLY TO THIS TITLE.

Writers J. Fred Coots, Haven Gillespie

Genres Standard, Ballad, Jazz

Recorded 2006

Lyrics YOU GO TO MY HEAD
AND YOU LINGER
LIKE A HAUNTING REFRAIN,
AND I FIND YOU SPINNING
AROUND IN MY BRAIN
LIKE THE BUBBLES
IN A GLASS OF CHAMPAGNE.
YOU GO TO MY HEAD
LIKE A SIP
OF SPARKLING BURGUNDY BREW.
AND I FIND
THE VERY MENTION OF YOU
LIKE THE KICKER
IN A JULEP OR TWO.

THE THRILL OF THE THOUGHT
THAT YOU MIGHT GIVE A THOUGHT
TO MY PLEA
CASTS A SPELL OVER ME.
STILL, I SAY TO MYSELF,
"GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF,
CAN'T YOU SEE
THAT IT NEVER CAN BE?"

YOU GO TO MY HEAD
WITH A SMILE
THAT MAKES
MY TEMPERATURE RISE,
LIKE A SUMMER
WITH A THOUSAND JULY'S,
YOU INTOXICATE MY SOUL
WITH YOUR EYES.

THOUGH I'M CERTAIN
THAT THIS HEART OF MINE
HASN'T A GHOST OF A CHANCE
IN THIS CRAZY ROMANCE,
YOU GO TO MY HEAD,
YOU GO TO MY HEAD.