Do not forsake me, oh, my darling
Oh my darling,
Oh my darling,
Oh my darling Clementine!
As your silver hair save that,
For you got to better not there.
I see your own cheeks, saves that,
It’s a time you’re my lasting sign.
They have got to sue the passing
As you do too everyday.
Still you point at them and then
Sometimes I’m the slave.
Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold
Shine upon my brow today
Life is fading fast away.
But, my darling, you will be, will be
Always young and fair to me
Yes, my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to me.
Tom Pearce, Tom Pearce, lend me your grey mare.
All along, down along, out along lea.
For I want for to go to Widecombe Fair,
With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney,
Peter Davy, Dan’l Whiddon, Harry Hawke,
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all,
Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.
A frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigh ho! says Rowley.
Whether his mother would let him go or no.
With a rowley-powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigh ho! says Anthony Rowley.
James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree
Took great care of his Mother, though he was only three.
James James said to his Mother, “Mother,” he said, said he;
“You must never go down to the end of the town,
If you don’t go down with me.”
James James Morrison’s Mother, she put on her golden gown.
James James Morrison’s Mother, she drove to the end of the town.
James James Morrison’s Mother said to herself, said she:
“Oh, I can get down to the end of the town
And be back in time for tea.”
King John put up a notice: LOST, STOLEN OR STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON’S MOTHER, SHE SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
WANDERING VAGUELY ALL ABOUT, QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD;
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN TO THE END OF THE TOWN -
FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!
Three coins in the fountain,
Each one seeking happiness.
Thrown by three hopeful lovers,
Which one will the fountain bless?
Come thou fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace
Streams of mercy never ceasing
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount
I’m fixed upon it
Mount of Thy redeeming love.
See the streams of living waters
Springing from eternal love!
Well supply Thy sons and daughters
And all fear of want remove.
Who can faint while such a river
Ever flows, thy thirst to assuage?
Grace, which like the Lord, the giver
Never fails from age to age.
Shall we gather at the river,
where bright angel feet have trod,
with its crystal tide forever
flowing by the throne of God?
Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
the beautiful, the beautiful river;
gather with the saints at the river
that flows by the throne of God.
But the good news is there’s angels everywhere out on the street
Holding out a hand to pull you back up on your feet
I’m just a hat and feet,
That’s all that’s left of me,
A spot on the sidewalk, a mark on the street,
I’m just a hat and feet.
The only one I know, has come to take me away
The only one I know, is mine when she stitches me
The only one I see, has found an aching in me
The only one I see, has turned her tongue into me
Everyone has been burned before, everybody knows the pain
The only one I know, never cries, never open her eyes
The only one I know, wide awake and then she’s away
The only one I see, is mine when she walks down our street
The only one I see, has carved her way in to me
Carve away the stone
Carve away the stone
Make a graven image
With some features of your own
How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone ?
I was walking by the graveyard, late last Friday night,
I heard somebody yelling, it sounded like a fight.
It was just a drunken hobo dancing circles in the night,
Pouring whiskey on the headstones in the blue moonlight.
So often have I wondered where these homeless brothers go,
Down in some hidden valley were their sorrows cannot show,
Where the police cannot find them, where the wanted men can go.
There’s freedom when your walking, even though you’re walking slow.
Smash your bottle on a gravestone and live while you can,
That homeless brother is my friend.
A preacher will preach, a teacher will teach,
and a miner will dig in the mine.
i ride the rods, trusting in god,
and huggin’ my bottle of wine.
Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine,
when you gonna let me get sober?
leave me alone, let me go home.
let me go back and start over
Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let…fifty cents.
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain’t got no cigarettes
Ah, but…two hours of pushin’ broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Third boxcar, midnight train
Destination…Bangor, Maine.
Old worn out suits and shoes,
I don’t pay no union dues,
I smoke old stogies I have found
Short, but not too big around
I’m a man of means by no means
King of the road.
Who really knows what future waits to be found?
Who really knows this world at all?
Riding the last train out of far away towns
Who needs a cause worth fighting for?
White Russians
Playing chess with your black heart
Beneath the stars
White Russians
Facing death to save their past