Oh, Mama, I’m in fear for my life from the long arm of the law
Law man has put an end to my running and I’m so far from my home
Oh, Mama I can hear you a-cryin’, you’re so scared and all alone
Hangman is comin’ down from the gallows and I don’t have very long
I can’t see you Mama
But I can hardly wait
Ooh to touch and to feel you Mama
Oh I just can’t keep away
And she said, "Mama, it’s a hard life now you’re gone
Mama, it’s so hard to carry on
And I feel I’m a fool who lost it all…
Mother Mary comes to me…let it be
Hank Hill’s theme song:
If you want to buy some, then here you’ve got to come, propane.
I am thinking furryman’s is just a comment, it doesn’t seem to play off the previous one, so I am playing from #804.
Big wheel keep on turnin’
Proud Mary keep on burnin’
Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ on the river
Mary, have you seen better days?
And will you find different ways?
And does he really mean that much to your heart?
I’ve been to Hollywood.
I’ve been to Redwood.
I crossed the ocean for a heart of gold.
Once I had a love and it was a gas
Soon turned out had a heart of glass
Gas gas gas! I’m gonna step on the gas
I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
And I howled at the morning driving rain
But it’s all right now, in fact, it’s a gas
But it’s all right. I’m Jumpin’ Jack Flash
It’s a gas, gas, gas
You are like a hurricane
There’s calm in your eye.
And I’m gettin’ blown away
To somewhere safer
where the feeling stays.
I want to love you but
I’m getting blown away.
Here comes the story of the Hurricane
The man the authorities came to blame
For something that he never done
Put him in a prison cell but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
And I stare at the gray walls before me
And I see her face in the stone
And I try to imagine our baby
And I wish they would let me go home
Jailhouse rock
Well if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine
Bet I’d move it on a little farther down the line
Far from Folsom Prison, that’s where I long to stay
Then I’d let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away
And I guess that’s why they call it the blues,
Time on my hands could be time spent with you,
Laughing like children, living like lovers,
Rolling like thunder under the covers,
And I guess that’s why they call it the blues.
And the thunder rolls…
It’s like thunder, lightning
The way you love me is frightening
You better knock, knock, knock on wood