He had white horses And ladies by the score All dressed in satin And waiting by the door
Oooh, what a lucky man he was
White lace and feathers They made up his bed A gold covered mattress On which he was laid
He went to fight wars For his country and his king Of his honor and his glory The people would sing
A bullet had found him His blood ran as he cried No money could save him So he laid down and he diedTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.