I've sung this song, but I'll sing it again, Of the place that I lived on the wild windy plains, In the month called April, county called Gray, And here's what all of the people there say: CHORUS: "So long, it's been good to know yuh; So long, it's been good to know yuh; So long, it's been good to know yuh. This dusty old dust is a-gettin' my home, And I got to be driftin' along."
A dust storm hit, an' it hit like thunder; It dusted us over, an' it covered us under; Blocked out the traffic an' blocked out the sun, Straight for home all the people did run, Singin': [CHORUS]
We talked of the end of the world, and then We'd sing a song an' then sing it again. We'd sit for an hour an' not say a word, And then these words would be heard: [CHORUS]
Sweethearts sat in the dark and sparked, They hugged and kissed in that dusty old dark. They sighed and cried, hugged and kissed, Instead of marriage, they talked like this: "Honey..." [CHORUS]
Now, the telephone rang, an' it jumped off the wall, That was the preacher, a-makin' his call. He said, "Kind friend, this may the end; An' you got your last chance of salvation of sin!" [CHORUS]
The churches was jammed, and the churches was packed, An' that dusty old dust storm blowed so black. Preacher could not read a word of his text, An' he folded his specs, an' he took up collection, Said: [CHORUS] Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.