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I've been down around Houston,Texas
Where the sun shines most of the time
I've been driving about six hours
Tryin' to reach that Arkansas line
But Texarkana's an hour ahead
And I've got to keep my wheels rolling
But woman you're always on my mind
Twenty-four hours at a time
So my woman I'm hoping you feel the same way
L.A.'s fine, the sun shines most the time,
and the feeling is lay back.
Palm trees grow, rents are low, but you know
I keep thinking about making my way back...
Well I'm New York City born and raised but nowadays
it seems I'm lost between two shores.
L.A.'s fine but it ain't home,
New York's mine but it ain't mine no more...
I am I said, to no one there
and no one heard at all not even the chair.
I am I cried, I am said I, and I am lost and I can't
even say why ... leaving me lonely still...
Well I wish I was in New Orleans,
I can see it in my dreams
Arm in arm down Burgundy, a bottle and my friends and me.
Hoist up a few tall cool ones, play some pool and listen to
That tenor, saxophone, calling me home...
I can hear the band begin
"When The Saints Go Marchin In"
By the whiskers on my chin,
New Orleans, I'll be there.
Gonna take a freight train ... down at the station, Lord
I don't care where it goes.
Gonna climb a mountain, the highest mountain ...
Jump off, nobody gonna know.
Can't you see, oh can't you see,
What that woman, Lord ....
She been doin' to me.
Can't you see, can't you see,
What that woman, she been doin' to me.
...I'll steal a hacksaw from my Dad
and cut the braces off your legs...
and we'll bury them tonight in the cornfield...
put a Church key in your pocket
we'll hop that freight train in the hall...
and we'll slide down the drain
all the way...
to New Orleans in the fall...
Long before the Superdome, where the Saints of football play,
Lived a city that the Damned call home - hear their hellish rondelay:
New Orleans!
Home of pirates, drunks, and whores, New Orleans!
Tacky overpriced souvenir stores!
If you want to go to Hell you should take that trip
To the Sodom and Gomorrah on the Mississip, New Orleans!
Stinky, rotten, vomity, vile New Orleans!
Putrid, brackish, maggoty, foul New Orleans!
Crummy, lousy, rancid and rank New Orleans!
... Gulf breeze...on the porch
me and my honey rockin' back and forth...
Ridin' up again with my kin and friends
underneath the yellow moon...
Sweet dream, New Orleans,
Mississippi River running over me...
Pretty mama come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you don't understand....
it's a southern thang...
There's teddy bears and high school rings,
And old photographs that mamas bring.
Of daddies with their young boys playin' ball.
There's combat boots he used to wear,
When he was sent over there.
And there's 50,000 names carved in the wall.
There's cigarettes and cans of beer,
And notes that say: "I miss you dear."
And children who don't say anything at all.
There's purple hearts and packs of gum,
Fatherless daughters and fatherless sons.
And there's 50,000 names carved in the wall.
~~George Jones~~
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Glen Campbell - Wichita Lineman
