Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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