Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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