Wayne Mullins-Songwriter/Drummer
Roy LeBlanc - Melodies/Vocalist
Boxes in the Hall
Stumble up the driveway
Trying not to make a sound
Wouldn’t want her thinkin’
Been stepping out in town
The porch light’s still burnin’
So I wouldn’t trip and fall
But I fell down when I seen
Those boxes in the hall
Boxes in the hall
They reach from wall to wall
Each one can tell a story
If they’d talk, they’d tell it all
In one I see some pictures
There’s some I don’t recall
My life packed so neatly
In those boxes in the hall
Wake late on Sunday morning
Through foggy eyes I see
No boxes in the hallway
Just a note addressed to me
Can’t stop to make you breakfast
If words could say it all
You’ve taken me for granted
I took the boxes in the hall
Repeat chorus and add these two lines:
Though they’re gone, I can’t get over
Those boxes in the hall
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – May 14, 2012
Out To the Island
My lunchbox and me, we ain’t free
We’re tied to the clock every day
Well maybe its fate, this job that I hate
Will soon get the best of me
This traffic and city, might be a pity
And the wheels go round and round
But it’s Friday night, and I’m dam sure right
Settin’ sail for higher ground
I’m going out to the island, out in the sea
Out where my life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on my hand, it’s paradise in the sand
Out to the island where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And I’ll be singin’ a song, when you come along
With the red sunrise, my sleepy eyes
Tell me it’s Monday again
Not too much to pack, but I gotta head back
To a world that’s all in vain
I hear the foreman call, see the clock on the wall
It’s all such a waste of my time
Cause lying with you and this cooler of beer
Has damm sure changed my mind
We’re gonna stay out on the island, out in the sea
Out where our life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on our hand, just paradise in the sand
Out to the island, where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And we’ll be singing this song, when the daylight is gone
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – August 03, 2009
Out To the Island
My lunchbox and me, we ain’t free
We’re tied to the clock every day
Well maybe its fate, this job that I hate
Will soon get the best of me
This traffic and city, might be a pity
And the wheels go round and round
But it’s Friday night, and I’m dam sure right
Settin’ sail for higher ground
I’m going out to the island, out in the sea
Out where my life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on my hand, it’s paradise in the sand
Out to the island where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And I’ll be singin’ a song, when you come along
With the red sunrise, my sleepy eyes
Tell me it’s Monday again
Not too much to pack, but I gotta head back
To a world that’s all in vain
I hear the foreman call, see the clock on the wall
It’s all such a waste of my time
Cause lying with you and this cooler of beer
Has damm sure changed my mind
We’re gonna stay out on the island, out in the sea
Out where our life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on our hand, just paradise in the sand
Out to the island, where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And we’ll be singing this song, when the daylight is gone
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – August 03, 2009
Boxes in the Hall
Stumble up the driveway
Trying not to make a sound
Wouldn’t want her thinkin’
Been stepping out in town
The porch light’s still burnin’
So I wouldn’t trip and fall
But I fell down when I seen
Those boxes in the hall
Boxes in the hall
They reach from wall to wall
Each one can tell a story
If they’d talk, they’d tell it all
In one I see some pictures
There’s some I don’t recall
My life packed so neatly
In those boxes in the hall
Wake late on Sunday morning
Through foggy eyes I see
No boxes in the hallway
Just a note addressed to me
Can’t stop to make you breakfast
If words could say it all
You’ve taken me for granted
I took the boxes in the hall
Repeat chorus and add these two lines:
Though they’re gone, I can’t get over
Those boxes in the hall
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – May 14, 2012
Out To the Island
My lunchbox and me, we ain’t free
We’re tied to the clock every day
Well maybe its fate, this job that I hate
Will soon get the best of me
This traffic and city, might be a pity
And the wheels go round and round
But it’s Friday night, and I’m dam sure right
Settin’ sail for higher ground
I’m going out to the island, out in the sea
Out where my life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on my hand, it’s paradise in the sand
Out to the island where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And I’ll be singin’ a song, when you come along
With the red sunrise, my sleepy eyes
Tell me it’s Monday again
Not too much to pack, but I gotta head back
To a world that’s all in vain
I hear the foreman call, see the clock on the wall
It’s all such a waste of my time
Cause lying with you and this cooler of beer
Has damm sure changed my mind
We’re gonna stay out on the island, out in the sea
Out where our life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on our hand, just paradise in the sand
Out to the island, where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And we’ll be singing this song, when the daylight is gone
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – August 03, 2009
Out To the Island
My lunchbox and me, we ain’t free
We’re tied to the clock every day
Well maybe its fate, this job that I hate
Will soon get the best of me
This traffic and city, might be a pity
And the wheels go round and round
But it’s Friday night, and I’m dam sure right
Settin’ sail for higher ground
I’m going out to the island, out in the sea
Out where my life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on my hand, it’s paradise in the sand
Out to the island where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And I’ll be singin’ a song, when you come along
With the red sunrise, my sleepy eyes
Tell me it’s Monday again
Not too much to pack, but I gotta head back
To a world that’s all in vain
I hear the foreman call, see the clock on the wall
It’s all such a waste of my time
Cause lying with you and this cooler of beer
Has damm sure changed my mind
We’re gonna stay out on the island, out in the sea
Out where our life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on our hand, just paradise in the sand
Out to the island, where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And we’ll be singing this song, when the daylight is gone
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – August 03, 2009
Boxes in the Hall
Stumble up the driveway
Trying not to make a sound
Wouldn’t want her thinkin’
Been stepping out in town
The porch light’s still burnin’
So I wouldn’t trip and fall
But I fell down when I seen
Those boxes in the hall
Boxes in the hall
They reach from wall to wall
Each one can tell a story
If they’d talk, they’d tell it all
In one I see some pictures
There’s some I don’t recall
My life packed so neatly
In those boxes in the hall
Wake late on Sunday morning
Through foggy eyes I see
No boxes in the hallway
Just a note addressed to me
Can’t stop to make you breakfast
If words could say it all
You’ve taken me for granted
I took the boxes in the hall
Repeat chorus and add these two lines:
Though they’re gone, I can’t get over
Those boxes in the hall
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – May 14, 2012
Out To the Island
My lunchbox and me, we ain’t free
We’re tied to the clock every day
Well maybe its fate, this job that I hate
Will soon get the best of me
This traffic and city, might be a pity
And the wheels go round and round
But it’s Friday night, and I’m dam sure right
Settin’ sail for higher ground
I’m going out to the island, out in the sea
Out where my life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on my hand, it’s paradise in the sand
Out to the island where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And I’ll be singin’ a song, when you come along
With the red sunrise, my sleepy eyes
Tell me it’s Monday again
Not too much to pack, but I gotta head back
To a world that’s all in vain
I hear the foreman call, see the clock on the wall
It’s all such a waste of my time
Cause lying with you and this cooler of beer
Has damm sure changed my mind
We’re gonna stay out on the island, out in the sea
Out where our life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on our hand, just paradise in the sand
Out to the island, where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And we’ll be singing this song, when the daylight is gone
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – August 03, 2009
Out To the Island
My lunchbox and me, we ain’t free
We’re tied to the clock every day
Well maybe its fate, this job that I hate
Will soon get the best of me
This traffic and city, might be a pity
And the wheels go round and round
But it’s Friday night, and I’m dam sure right
Settin’ sail for higher ground
I’m going out to the island, out in the sea
Out where my life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on my hand, it’s paradise in the sand
Out to the island where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And I’ll be singin’ a song, when you come along
With the red sunrise, my sleepy eyes
Tell me it’s Monday again
Not too much to pack, but I gotta head back
To a world that’s all in vain
I hear the foreman call, see the clock on the wall
It’s all such a waste of my time
Cause lying with you and this cooler of beer
Has damm sure changed my mind
We’re gonna stay out on the island, out in the sea
Out where our life and the air is free
Ain’t no watch on our hand, just paradise in the sand
Out to the island, where palm trees grow
Sandals and sun and the livin’ is slow
And we’ll be singing this song, when the daylight is gone
Copyright – Wayne Mullins and Roy LeBlanc
DOC – August 03, 2009
Wayne Mullins-Songwriter/Drummer
Roy LeBlanc - Melodies/Vocalist
We have worked together composing original lyrics and songs for 21 years.Our original style was traditional country.Since then we've added Bluegrass, Gospel, Folk, Romantic and Patriotic. We will soon be uploading our first Christmas song.
None - We only compose original lyrics and songs for download or recorded by Artists looking for original material.We only write and record for others, not for ourselves.
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