 |
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days
They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise ?
I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign
And all the people say, "There goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49"
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true
Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight
And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight
But Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein
And over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game
Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same
He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind
In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget
He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet
One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design
And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
Of the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast
And I'm left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign
"There goes Tom Moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49 "
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.
|
|
Wszelkie prawa do prezentowanych tekstów posiadają ich autorzy.
Tekst jest prezentowany wyłącznie do celów edukacyjnych.
dodał: Administrator
czytano: 229 razy
|
Fragment na dzis:
Usher : Burn
I don't understand why
See it's burning me to hold onto this
I know this is something I gotta do
But that don't mean I want to
What I'm trying to say is that I-love-you i just,
I feel like this is coming to an end
And its better for me to
L-
|
et it go now than hold on and hurt you
I gotta let it burn
[Verse 1]
It's gonna burn for me to say this
But it's comin from my heart
It's been a long time coming
we da been fell apart
Really wanna work this out
But I don't think yo-
|
u're gonna change
I do but you don't
Think it's best we go our separate ways
Tell me why I should stay in this relationship
When I'm hurting baby, I ain't happy baby
Plus there's so many other things I gotta deal with
I think that you shoul....
|
|
|
 |
TEKSTY WEDŁUG WYKONAWCY
