Mr. Jones (Counting Crows)
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| I | was | down | at | the | New | Amsterdam |
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| staring | at | this | yellow-haired | girl | Mr. |
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Jones | strikes | up | a | conver | sation | with | this |
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black-haired | flamenco | dancer | She | dances | while |
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his | father | plays | guitar. | She's | suddenly |
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beautiful | We | all | want | something | beautiful | | I |
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wish | I | was | beautiful | So | come | dance | this | silence |
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down | through | the | morning | | sha | la | la | la | la | la |
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la | la | yeah | | | uh | huh... | | Cut | up, | Ma | ria! |
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| Show | me | some | of | them | Spanish | dances |
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| Pass | me | a | bottle, | Mr. | Jones | | Believe | in |
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me. | | Help | me | believe | in | anything | 'cause |
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| I | want | to | be | someone | who | believes, | yeah... |
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| Mr. | J | ones | and | me | | tell | each | other | fairy |
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tales, | yeah | well | me | Stare | at | the | beautiful | women |
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"She's | looking | at | you. | Ah, | no, | no, | she's | looking |
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at | me." | Smiling | in | the | bright | lights | | Coming |
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through | in | stereo | When | everybody | loves | you, |
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| you | can | never | be | lonely. |
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I will | paint | my | picture. | | Paint | myself | in |
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blue | and | red | and | black | and | gray | All | of | the |
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beautiful | colors | are | very | very | | meaningful | you |
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know | gray | is | my | favorite | color | | I | felt | so |
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sym | bolic | yester | day | If | I | knew | Pi | casso | I | would | buy |
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myself | a | gray | guitar | and | play | | Mr. | Jones | and |
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me | | look | into | the | future | Stare | at | the |
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beautiful | women | | "She's | looking | at | you. | Uh, | I |
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don't | think | so. | She's | looking | at | me." | Standing |
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in | the | spotlight | | I | bought | myself | a | gray |
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guitar | When | everybody | loves | me, | | I | will | never |
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be | lone | ly | I | will | never | be | lonely | I'm | never | gonna |
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be | lone | ly | I want | to | be | a | lion |
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| Everybody | wants | to | pass | as | cats | We |
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all | want | to | be | big, | big | stars, | | but | we've | got |
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different | reasons | for | that. | | Believe | in | me |
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because | I | | don't | believe | in | anything |
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and | I want | to | be | someone | to | be | lieve, | to | believe, |
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to | believe. | | Mr. | Jones | and | me | | stumbling |
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through | the | barrio | Yeah | we | | stare | at | the |
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beautiful | women | "She's | perfect | for | you, | Man, |
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there's | got | to | be | somebody | for | me." | I | want | to | be |
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Bob | Dylan | Mr. | Jones | wishes | he | was | someone | just | a |
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little | more | funky | When | everybody | loves | you, | son, |
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| that's | just | about | as | funky | as | you | can | be. |
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| Mr. | Jones | and | me | | staring | at | the | video | When |
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I | look | at | the | tele | vision | I | want | to | see | me |
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staring | right | back | at | me. | | We | all | want | to | be |
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big, | big | stars | but | we | don't | know | why | and | we |
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don't | know | how. | But | when | everybody | lo | ves | me, | I'm |
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going | to | be | | just | about | as | happy | as | I | can | be. |
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| Mr. | Jones | and | me, | | we're | gonna | be | big |
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