On Springfield Mountain there did dwell. A lovely youth I knowed him well.. . Too roo de nay, too roo de noo. . This lovely youth one day did go. Down to the meadom for to mow..
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The end of the summer, down in New Orleans. Should've called, got caught up in the scene. Ain't nothin' wrong, ain't a damn thing right. Gonna be comin' home but baby, not tonight.
I'll race you down the moun-tain,. I'll race you down the moun-tain,. I'll race you down the moun-tain,. We'll see who gets there first.. . Let's run and jump the riv-er,.
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Ramblin' around your city. Ramblin' around your town. I never see a friend I know. As I go ramblin' 'round, boys. As I go ramblin' 'round. . My sweetheart and my parents.
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Do you still sing of the mountain bed we made of limbs and leaves:. Do you still sigh there near the sky where the holly berry bleeds:. You laughed as I covered you over with leaves, face, breast, hips and thighs..
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Roll on, Columbia, roll on. Roll on, Columbia, roll on. Your power is turning our darkness to dawn. So roll on, Columbia, roll on. . Green Douglas firs where the waters cut through.
I just got my army call. And I run down to the army hall.. Sally come a-runnin' like a cannonball. And I told her not to grieve after me.. . It's-a when I'm gone, Sally, don't you grieve.
Chorus:. . Who can guess the secret of the sea?. Who can guess the secret of the sea?. If you can guess the secret of my love for you. We both could know the secret of the sea.
Ten hundred books. Could I write you about her?. 'Cause I felt if I could know her. I would know all women. . And they've not been any too well known.
The crops are all in. And the peaches are rotting. The oranges piled up. In their creosote dumps. You're flying 'em back. To the Mexican border. To spend all their money.
My mother called me to her bedside. These words she said to me. If you don't quit your rambling ways. They're gonna get you in the penitentiary. Gonna get you in the penitentiary poor boy.
I'ma post war breakout. I'ma post war breakdown. I'ma post war nervroe. And a post war hero. I'ma post war skitzoe. I'ma post war freenyoe. Post war nerve case.
If you'll gather 'round me, children,. A story I will tell. 'Bout Pretty Boy Floyd, an outlaw,. Oklahoma knew him well.. . It was in the town of Shawnee,.
Mother dear come bathe my forehead. For I'm growing very weak. Mother let one drop of water. Fall upon my burning cheek. . I'm going away to leave you, Mother darling.
Put your finger in the air, in the air.. Put your finger in the air, in the air.. Put your finger in the air, and hold it right up there.. Put your finger in the air, in the air..