She was rolling down that grade
Doing ninety miles an hour
When the whistle broke into a scream
And they found in the wreck
With his hand on the throttle
Scalded to death by the steam.
Another Tex Ritter song, a bit more lyric than The Soldier’s Bible.
Play the guitar, play it again, my Johnny
Maybe you’re cold, but you’re so warm inside
I was always a fool for my Johnny
For the one they call Johnny Guitar…
To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day.
Hardly spoke to folks around him didn’t have too much to sayyyyyyy.
No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip,
for the stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip.
A big iron on his hip.
There. Fixed it. (I have EXACTLY THE SAME PROBLEM this week, obviously.)
I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth, …