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作词 : Colter Wall |
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作曲 : Colter Wall |
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It was a cold and cruel evening |
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Sneaking up on Speedy Creek |
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Found myself asleep and in the snow |
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One or two odd reasons |
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I ain't too proud to repeat |
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For now we'll say I had no place to go |
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There was a rustle and a humming |
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Just hauling down the street |
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I drew myself up from my icy bed |
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Painted on that shiny car the letters 'RCM and P' |
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I can feel a little aching in my head |
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And then out jumps this old boy |
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About twice the size of me |
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He asked me for my name and where I dwell |
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I just looked him in the eye |
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And sang 'Blue Yodel Number 9' |
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He didn't catch the reference, I could tell |
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Then the old, familiar click |
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In the handcuffs bind and grip |
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Should have left me in the snow, where I laid |
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He just laughed and touched his gun |
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And turned to me and he said |
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Son, I bet you don't own a damn thing |
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To your name |
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Well, I got my health |
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My John B Stetson |
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Got a bottle full of baby's bluebird wine |
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And I left my stash |
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Somewhere down in Preston |
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Along with thirteen silver dollars and my mind |
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Well, I got my health |
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My John B Stetson |
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Got me a bottle full of baby's bluebird wine |
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And I left my stash |
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Somewhere down in Preston |
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Along with thirteen silver dollars and my mind |
