Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I'm still standing
No one else can fill it like I can
She's not coming back to you
How unfortunate this person
You can tell you've done well By the happy, grateful looks
Beautiful town
We shall see, little man!
I'm still called an admiral
I'm praying for you
Don't cry for me, Argentina
Hidden from view At my grandparents funeral
Before turning my back on the past
You'd like to hear
She's slowing down
Fill me up with your heat With your noise, with your dirt, overdo me
The voice of the people
With the splendour
But once they allow a bit on the side
The lights were gone
When the money keeps rolling out, You don't keep books.
So I chose freedom
Eyes! Hair! Mouth! Figure!
Which has to imply I'd be good for you
- Where am I going to? - You'll get by, you always have before.
Figures get in the way
She nearly captured the French
The shooting sticks
The voice of Argentina!
Could 50
When someone pretty lower class
Eva Duarte?
From every side
A beautiful reminder of the carefree days
The answer was here all the time
completed your task
She's lost a little of that magic drive
Where am I going to?
So do up your trousers and go
Tell me before you get onto your high horse
Understands you, is one of you
It's hungry and cold
Because you oughta know What you're gonna get in me
Tarts have become the set to know.
High flying, adored,
Don't keep your distance
Face! Diamonds! Excitement! Image!
Don’t cry For BTC Argentina...
She sure had the chance
The decline of Argentina
But not here, dear. Is that clear, dear?
How will we ever get by without her?
Rolling, rolling, rolling Rolling, rolling, rolling
Having to get a majority.
I want to be a part of B.A., Buenos Aires, Big Apple.
Don't keep your distance
How the dirty city feels and looks
I am only a simple woman
I'm their saviour
It is my sad duty to inform you
One smothers light
She won't be kept happy by her nights on the tiles
Good night and thank you, Emilio
The town of San Juan.
Where you are.
Of each sad occasion
Make me special
Backs to the wall! Aim high!
Well, maybe not that fine
All my words desert me
I could burn
That would rise for the girl
On making it in movies with her name in lights
Your queen is dead, your king is through
Could there be
Things that I'm longing to say
Don't hold back You are certain to impress
There is no one, no one at all
But if you're prettier than General Franco
Take me in at your flood, give me speed Give me lights, set me humming
Plays for evermore.