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BOOTS AND SAND (Lyrics)
I was traveling, boots and sand. High bound for miracle land. Met a man called Buckingham, Said, "Joe, won't you join our band?"
Nickle jangled in the jukebox, Bird of Nashville sang ... wooo
So we carried on a long, long road. To a place, where we've been told, all your records turn to gold. Birth land of rock-and-roll.
As we reached the border, seven sheriffs arrived (seven sheriffs turn-on). Me and my girl, are standing outside.
(oh, who are you?)
Is your name this? You're on our no-song list! Oh no, sir, no! This can't be so.
So they strung us to a friendly bird. (They) flew us back to the lower world. As we reached the morning light, fame came overnight.
It's a strange, strange thing. Whatever songs you had. Some called good, some called bad.
Now I'm back on the long long road. One bag, and a song I wrote. A little prayer in my hand. Just me, boots and sand.
Source: blog.writch.com |
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