Greasy eggs and bacon,
bumper stickers aimed to start
a fight,
full gun racks, Confederate
caps,
if you want some 'shine
well, you can always find
some more,
but what I remember most is
the colour of Suzy's door
And Suzy says she's up there
cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing
me
so I'm missing Oregon Hill
A river to the south
to wash away all sins
A college to the east of us
to learn where sin begins
A graveyard to the west of
it all
which I may soon be lying
in
'Cause to the north there is
a prison
which I've come to call my
home,
but some Monday morning no
country song
will sing me home again
And Suzy says she's up there
cutting carrots still
And Suzy says she's missing
me
so I'm missing Oregon Hill
Sunday morning, eight A.M.,
sirens fill the air
Sounds like someone made the
river
Sounds like someone being
born again
Me, I'm just lying here in
Suzy's bed
Baptists celebrating with praises
to the Lord,
rednecks doing it with gin
Me and Suzy, we're celebrating
the joy of sleeping in
because tomorrow I'll be home
again
But Suzy says she'll wait there
cutting carrots by the window
sill
And Suzy says, 'Always think
of me
when you think of Oregon Hill'
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |