Well look over yonder, to that
buryin ground
Look over yonder, to that
buryin ground
Sure seems lonesome, lord
when the sun goes down
Feelin' funny in my eyes lord,
I believe I'm fixin to die, fixin to die
Feelin' funny in my eyes lord,
I believe I'm fixin to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but
I hate to leave my children cryin'
Well there's black smoke risin'
lord, it's risin' up above my head,
up above my head
Well there's black smoke risin'
lord, it's risin' up above my head
Can tell Jesus, "Make up my
dyin' bed"
Well I'm walkin' kinda funny
lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die,
fixin' to die
Yes I'm walkin' kinda funny
lord, I believe I'm fixin' to die,
fixin' to die, fixin' to die
Well I don't mind dyin' but
I hate to leave my children cryin'
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |