Tin shacks and catfish bones
|
have been about all I've ever known.
|
The junebugs rattle and roll
|
around the old maypole.
|
Thunder and lightning,
|
the catfish are biting,
|
I took a riverboat downstream.
|
I think you know what I mean.
|
The chicken hawks, they are gathering.
|
Above my head, they are circling.
|
Old friends come out visiting,
|
say, "Hi," and talk about collecting.
|
Stray dogs won't come near me.
|
Was blind, now I see clearly.
|
Believe I'm fixing to die.
|
When you're living in the country it's, "why, oh why?"
|
Oh, I'm sorry that I left my home.
|
Oh. Oh. Oh.
|
Oh, I'm sorry that I left my home.
|
Oh. Oh. Oh.
|
Look over yonder there,
|
on the farther shore.
|
On the farther shore,
|
look over yonder there.
|
I see a ship of gold.
|
I see a ship of gold.
|
Beyond that mountain there,
|
I see a Citty-on-the-Hille.
|
Its gates are open wide.
|
I hear the ringing bells.
|
Look over yonder there,
|
on toward the burying ground.
|
Poor boy is all afire.
|
Poor boy is dead and gone.
|
One of these days the Ship of Gold
|
will carry me to my reward.
|
Out of this world it will take me
|
to hear the horns of Jubilee.
|
Pig fat and old pork rinds
|
ain't enough to keep a man alive.
|
The bullfrog sleeps all day.
|
Come night he has his say.
|
Believe I'm fixing to die.
|
Believe I'll take my rest.
|
Believe I'm fixing to die.
|
Believe I'll take my rest.
|
Oh, I'm sorry that I left my home.
|
Oh. Oh. Oh.
|
Oh, I'm sorry that I left my home.
|
Oh. Oh. Oh.
|
|
-----------------
|
Ship Of Gold
|
Clutch |