歌曲 | John Brown's Body |
歌手 | Gregory Alan Isakov |
专辑 | That Sea, the Gambler |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
There's always the creaks and the strangest sounds | |
john brown’s body was never found | |
but the locals see him walkin' around | |
There’s a ‘for sale’ sign on the old farm roads | |
there’s a silo empty and done for | |
the place just ain't the same no more | |
Now its shinin' all them different ways, crimson blues and yellow shades | |
there's snow up in the way | |
and those clouds still full of rain | |
There’s work in town or so they say | |
just blessed to fill our hands today | |
god knows if it will ever pay | |
And we fill our hands with wood and steel | |
and grace is a woman we all long to feel | |
you know we will...you know someday we will | |
There’s always the creaks and the strangest sounds | |
john brown’s body’s up and walkin' around | |
countin' all the riches that he found | |
And he throws it all in that wishing well | |
made it home in the morning hail…there’s snow up in the way | |
and those clouds still full a rain |
There' s always the creaks and the strangest sounds | |
john brown' s body was never found | |
but the locals see him walkin' around | |
There' s a ' for sale' sign on the old farm roads | |
there' s a silo empty and done for | |
the place just ain' t the same no more | |
Now its shinin' all them different ways, crimson blues and yellow shades | |
there' s snow up in the way | |
and those clouds still full of rain | |
There' s work in town or so they say | |
just blessed to fill our hands today | |
god knows if it will ever pay | |
And we fill our hands with wood and steel | |
and grace is a woman we all long to feel | |
you know we will... you know someday we will | |
There' s always the creaks and the strangest sounds | |
john brown' s body' s up and walkin' around | |
countin' all the riches that he found | |
And he throws it all in that wishing well | |
made it home in the morning hail there' s snow up in the way | |
and those clouds still full a rain |
There' s always the creaks and the strangest sounds | |
john brown' s body was never found | |
but the locals see him walkin' around | |
There' s a ' for sale' sign on the old farm roads | |
there' s a silo empty and done for | |
the place just ain' t the same no more | |
Now its shinin' all them different ways, crimson blues and yellow shades | |
there' s snow up in the way | |
and those clouds still full of rain | |
There' s work in town or so they say | |
just blessed to fill our hands today | |
god knows if it will ever pay | |
And we fill our hands with wood and steel | |
and grace is a woman we all long to feel | |
you know we will... you know someday we will | |
There' s always the creaks and the strangest sounds | |
john brown' s body' s up and walkin' around | |
countin' all the riches that he found | |
And he throws it all in that wishing well | |
made it home in the morning hail there' s snow up in the way | |
and those clouds still full a rain |