Rocky Votolato is an American singer-songwriter. He was born in Dallas, Texas on March 8, 1977. He was raised in a small town called Frost, roughly 50 miles south of Dallas, until the age of 13. After his parents were divorced, his mother remarried and moved the family to the Pacific Northwest in 1991, where he attended Inglemoor High School in Kenmore, Washington.[citation needed] Alienated by his southern roots, the isolation lead him to focusing all of his attention on learning to play guitar and writing songs.
Quatro anos de trabalho duro!Neste mês de maio fizemos quatro anos no ar. Continuamos trabalhando na divulgação deste maravilhoso instrumento, obrigado por participar da nossa história!
C lead me through these cities of imaginary trends Am something's gonna be changing come the morning time my friend FCG as fickle as these streets are they might not even wait around till then C I've got a lot to loose so come and take it from me quick Am everything you loose if it makes you stronger it makes you sick F take these cities from me I'll build buildings up with my own CG bare hands
FC the uppers aren't necessary the guilt is the coal GAm that keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold FC that creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone GFCG till the lonely messengers come calling you back home
the trees are stacked in rows on the side of the road stripped of any dignity a birthing may have had 100 thousand crucified on the Mojave I-5 line singers shepherds and salesmen all longing for someone to kill the joy of wondering and end all their desire to help them to remember that the road is nothing but a liar
FC the uppers aren't necessary the guilt is the coal GAm that keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold FC that creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone GF till the lonely messengers come calling you back
DmAm to the red door, cracked and crooked walk way CE the fence impaling the stars DmAmCEF ghostly keepers lead the way through railroads of abandoned cars GEFGE the tracks and city streets cut through like scars
FC the uppers aren't necessary the guilt is the coal GAm that keeps the fire burning to drive out the cold FC that creeps in every corner crack and never leaves you alone GFCG till the lonely messengers come calling you back home