Mace Ballard- Go Means Go (live)

I've been having an idea for a playlist articolo that would have 1000 of my preferito songs. Over the weekend I decided to open it up to everyone.
I'll start off with 10 songs and in the commenti section everyonee can add 10 more. Hopefully over time we can get over a 1000 diffrent songs listed.
The only rule is no song can be listed twice unless it's a cover version da another artist.
So here goes.

1. Yesterday-The Beatles
2.Angel-Sara MacLachlan
3. Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain-Willie Nelson
4.Where Is The Amore Black Eye Peas
5.Love Me Tender-Elvis Presley
6.Hallelujah-Jeff Buckley
7.You're My Best Friend-Queen
8. You're So Beautiful-Joe Cocker
9. Tears In Heaven-Eric Clapton
10.Lean On Me-Bill Withers

Music, it's just not a word that means a catchy sound, it means many things. Life, love, pain, tears, smiles, anything te want it to be.

Many people know the song "American Pie" da Don McLean and one line is "Can Musica save your mortal soul?" That line speaks the truth. Without music, what would this world be? Musica is in everything. Heck, te can't even watch a TV without background music. o te can't walk out of a baseball game without a man playing The Simpsons theme song on a trumpet. It brings joy to people in their everyday lives.

My dad took my older brother and I to a Bruce Springsteen concerto when I was seven. It was my first concerto and I knew that rock was going to be my preferito type of Musica for as long a I lived. Now it's been fourteen years since that concerto and now my preferito band is pistole N rose and many others.

Without music, what would this world be? It saves the world from dullness.

So the domanda is: Can Musica Save Your Mortal Soul?

I say yes

Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angeli fly
They go to the lake of fuoco and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July

I knew a lady who came from Duluth
She got bit da a dog with a rabid tooth
She went to her grave just a little too soon
And she flew away howling on the yellow moon

Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angeli fly
They go down to the lake of fuoco and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July

Now the people cry and the people moan
And they look for a dry place to call their home
And try to find some place to rest their bones
While the angeli and the devils try to make them their own

Where do bad folks go when they die?
They don't go to heaven where the angeli fly
They go down to the lake of fuoco and fry
Won't see em again 'till the fourth of July