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Time Lyrics
Home home sweet home
I'm going home
To where she waits
To share love with me yeah
I'm the kind of guy
Who loves to mess around
Know a lot of women
But they don't fill my heart
With love completely free
Ooh I love you I really do
Hold me hold me close completely free yeah
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
I'm going home
To where she waits
To share love with me yeah
Who loves to mess around
Know a lot of women
But they don't fill my heart
With love completely free
Ooh I love you I really do
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Hold on hold on hold on
(Take me there)
Hold on hold on hold on
Song Info
Submitted by
bobo192 On Aug 24, 2002
More Dennis Wilson
Thoughts Of You
Pacific Ocean Blues
Farewell My Friend
Love Remember Me
Friday Night
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This song is a pretty good example for the style of tracks and the “watery” element on the album: Music and voices come and go, something very deep goes on beyond the water's surface. The song starts with the piano, the mournful voice of Dennis Wilson, who sings never finding real love. He starts though with a woman who waits at home for him. She shall hold him. But I wondered: Why is this song called “time”? I think – and that’s the deeper part here – that even this woman can’t give him what he needs to find real happiness. In a spooky way it seems to mirror Dennis Wilsons lived life. Maybe some people just can’t find it. While we think these ones have everything, they’re, in a very specific and subject-related only way, positioned in the world and just can’t find an alternate way to see it. Then they comes the horns, also in a very haunting way, and the chords, and the songs goes on, fades out, with heavy blasts. We don’t know how the story ends, but it’ll do with a bang.