Beaches soundtrack

baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
Never to part, baby of mine.

Little one, when you play
Pay no heed what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
Never a tear, baby of mine.

If they knew all about you,
They'd end up loving you, too.
All those same people who scold you,
What they'd give just for the right to hold you.

From your head down to your toes,
You're not much, goodness knows.
But you're so precious to me,
Sweet as can be, baby of mine.

I am the captain and this is my shrine.
Lord of the manor. see what i leave behind.
River in flames, cities on fire.
Yes, i'm a relic trapped in the wire.

Hydrogen fuel, it burns so clean,
Throbs in the veins; a mother lovin' machine.
She is my wife. her mechanical heart
Constantly serving 'til death do us part.

Now a glorious war draws to a close.
The yellow winds blow. and i have to know.
Oh industry, whatever will become of me?
Soon the cruel rains will start.
Is it true we must part company?
Oh industry, whatever will become of me?
What have i ever done?
Where did i go wrong?

Joined at the hip; pain, hunger and i,
Leave our gift to the world 'neath the phosphorous sky.
A labor of love is the truest of all.
But will i be forsaken after the fall?

Now a glorious war draws to a close.
The yellow winds blow. and i have to know.
Oh industry, whatever will become of me?
Nothing after the flood but the fire and the mud's prophecy.
Oh industry, whatever will become of me?
Of me?

Industry, charity, faith, hope.
Industry, charity, faith, hope.
Industry, charity, faith, hope.
Industry, charity, faith, hope.
Industry, charity, faith, hope

"this is a song i've been singing for a long time. it's like an old friend. but, you know, i think it, it's only recently that i discovered what it's really about."

You've got to give a little, take a little,
And let your poor heart break a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

You've got to laugh a little, cry a little,
Until the clouds roll by a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

As long as there's the two of us,
We've got the world and all it's charms.
And when the world is through with us,
We've got each other's arms.

You've got to win a little, lose a little,
Yes, and always have the blues a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

Broken windows and empty hallways,
A pale dead moon in a sky streaked with grey.
Human kindness is overflowing,
And i think it's gonna rain today.

Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles,
The frozen smiles to chase love away.
Human kindness is overflowing,
And i think it's gonna rain today.

Lonely, lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think i'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.

Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
And i think it's gonna rain today.

Lonely, so lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think i'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.

Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
And i think it's gonna rain today.

"this next story is a true story. it concerns to of my favorite subjects: industrial theft . . . and-a t-ts! mmm, what a combo! this is the story . . . the inventor of the modern foundation
Ent that we women wear today was a german scientist and opera lover by the name of otto titsling! this is a true story. his name was otto titsling. what happened to otto titsling shouldn't happe
A schnauzer. it's a very sad story. i feel i have to share it with you."

Otto titsling, inventor and crout,
Had nothing to get very worked up about.
His inventions were failures, his future seemed bleak.
He fled to the opera at least twice a week.

One night at the opera he saw an aida
Who's t-ts were so big they would often impede her.
Bug-eyed he watched her fall into the pit,
Done in by the weight of those terrible t-ts.

Oh, my god! there she blows!
Aerodynamically this bitch was a mess.
Otto eye-balled the diva lying comatose amongst the reeds,
And he suddenly felt the fire or inspiration
Flood his soul. he knew what he had to do!
He ran back to his workshop
Where he futzed and futzed and futzed.

For otto titsling had found his quest:
To lift and mold the female breast;
To point the small ones to the sky;
To keep the big ones high and dry!

Every night he'd sweat and snort
Searching for the right support.
He tried some string and paper clips.
Hey! he even tried his own two lips!

Well, he stiched and he slaved
And he slaved and he stitched
Until finally one night, in the wee hours of morning,
Otto arose from his workbench triumphant.
Yes! he had invented the worlds first
Over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder. hooray!

Exhausted but ecstatic he ran
Down the street to the diva's house
Bearing the prototype in his hot little hand.
Now, the diva did not want to try the darn thing on.
But, after many initial misgivings,
She finally did.
And the sigh of relief that issued forth
From the diva's mouth
Was so loud that it was mistaken by some
To be the early onset of the seraken winds
Which would often roll through the schwarzwald
With a vengance!
Ahhhhh-i!

But little did otto know,
At the moment of his greatest triumph,
Lurking under the diva's bed
Was none other than the very worst
Of the french patentees,
Phillip debrassiere.
And phil was watching the scene
With a great deal of interest!

Later that night, while our broom hilda slept,
Into the wardrobe phillip softly crept.
He fumbled through knickers and corsets galore,
'til he found otto's titsling and he ran out the door.

Crying, "oh, my god! what joy! what bliss!
I'm gonna make me a million from this!
Every woman in the world will wanna buy one.
I can have all the goods manufactures in taiwan."

"oh, thank you!"

The result of this swindle is pointedly clear:
Do you buy a titsling or do you buy a brassiere?