Founds total 3 songs
We Don't Grow Tobacco
All these work ever I done,. Been beneath that burning sun. So that tobacco around to cure.. I would chop that wicked weed. Till our hands and feet will bleed.
Greatest Hustler Of All
Well, I met her on the corner of Broadway. Said she'd seen me coming for a mile. Guess I should of known she was troubled. By the hoodwink in her eye.
Evening Sun
In the alley dogs are barking, chickens crowing down the lane. And I feel just like that rooster and his mournful old refrain. With sun down on my shoulders just a hangin round the yard.
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