49 کے بول

We loaded rifles with our ragged britches on We built the wagons, and we head to Cali-for-nia I’ve got a lot to say, so you must sit and take it all Your father looked at me like a thing that don’t belong Some sorry sailor with no fortune for his daughter I’ll take your words with me - I’ll cross the Rockies in the fall To win my baby – I’ll find fortunes fit to take you home Blood washes glitter from stone Mad forces, bodies and bones Blood washes glitter from stone Four years and seven days since I left what was my home Return to find you cavortin’ with another He bent a knee for you – bought you a ring of solid gold With that vein my fate pursued, I could have made five hundred more You’re breaking my patience You’re breaking my patience You’re breaking my patience DOWN