Turned off the TV, sat down to dinner Phone rang, we were saying grace Grandma died left us sixty acres The last of the old home place
Sixty acres up on the cap rock What am I supposed to do with that Uncle Claude got a eight wheeled tractor Plow it under in nothing flat
We could plant some maize, we could plant some cotton We could plant some oats just to see if they'd grow But I don't like farming, can't take the hours Don't like a life that goes so slow
Glory glory, Hallelujah Right back atcha, hope that'll do ya Don't look at me like there's something I shouldn't have said Just 'cause that old bird's dead
Glory glory, Hallelujah Wish you'll do this, hope that'll do ya Don't look at me like there's something I shouldn't have said Just 'cause that old bird's dead
Now, cousin Clifford, he got the good land Right on the highway out by Air Base road Looks like a Wal-Mart waiting to happen I mean to tell you it's a pot of gold
It's in the city limits and zoned commercial City water and a sewer line With the base expanding, consolidation It's worth a fortune and it oughta been mine
Glory glory, Hallelujah Right back atcha, don't she look natural? Don't look at me like there's something growing out of my head Just 'cause that old bird's deadTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
