Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I should decline
Please sign the book on the way out the door
And I like what I hear, what I see
Just one shell,
One always picks
Eyes, hair, face, image
They actually called me a whore!
The voice of the people
She only got a rosary
at 8:25
But we have pretended enough
Don't cry for me, Argentina...
But to give all my descamisados
Fight elections for their cause.
The easy fight
Man to be of use
I need to be thrilling
More bad news from Rome
But who is this Santa Evita?
But on the other hand
The money kept rolling out In all directions
Let the world know
Is true
Tell me before you get onto your bus
Don't blame them You're the same
System of government quite incidental
Italy's unconvinced
Think of all the people Guaranteed a good time now
You've shown by your presence
She's sad for her country
La Santa Peronista!
It could be your last
Graceless and vulgar, uninspired
To be called.
Encouragement
Allow me to help you slink off to the sidelines
Would you like to try a college education?
The need to be elected
We have completely lost our grip
The best show in town was the crowd
She has other interests
That's what they call me
Which has to imply, I'd be good for you
Down here on the ground
If I'm wrong I hope you'll tell me so
I won't recall the names and places
Figure! Dress! Voice! Style! Image!
Wouldn't you?
I'm Argentina
- So what happens now? - Take your picture off another wall.
A serious flaw
- Precisely! ...our heroine's style.
They were slightly to the right of Attila the Hun
On that magical day
Don't cry for me, E Kat UH Reena!
But when you act
At 26
Argentine men call the sexual shots
And she's an actress, the last straw
She's in every magazine Been photographed, seen
I've decided
Sooner or later.
What the people can do
Was forever
How she shone
But she won't always answer the phone
If not
And all the sorrow I'd feared wasn't there any more
And they do.
and I promise you this,
The truth is
Screw the middle classes!
Don't look down
So share my glory,
And
Your deeds and applause
Whip up your hate In some tottering state
At the watering-holes
I'd get out while you can
High flying, adored,
The choice was yours
They need to adore me
Bad moments come
Don't close doors Keep an escape clause
He supports you, for he loves you