Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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