# A B C Č D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R Ř S Š T U V W X Y Z Ž М С

Přeskočit na navigaci

Bob Dylan - Days Of 49 - text písně

Texty písní » Bob Dylan - Days Of 49

Bob Dylan - stát se fanouškem

I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days
They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise ?
I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign
And all the people say, "There goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49"
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.

My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true
Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.

There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight
And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight
But Jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Stein
And over Jake they held a wake in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.

There was Poker Bill, one of the boys who was always in a game
Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same
He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind
In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.

There was Ragshag Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget
He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and I guess he's roaring yet
One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design
And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.

Of the comrades all that I've had, there's none that's left to boast
And I'm left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign
"There goes Tom Moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49 "
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft'times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49.

Přidal: Ondra dne 22. 07. 2005 v 19:19.
Počet zobrazení: 173 (0).

» Zobrazit všechny texty od Bob Dylan

» Zobrazit všechny texty od Ondra

Videoklip

Bob Dylan - nejžádanější texty

Knockin' On Heaven's Door
Bob Dylan (1195x)
Lay Lady Lay
Bob Dylan (1037x)
House Of The Rising Sun
Bob Dylan (808x)
Lež, Milá, Lež
Bob Dylan (783x)
Blowin' In The Wind
Bob Dylan (760x)
Like A Rolling Stone
Bob Dylan (636x)
Just Like A Woman
Bob Dylan (610x)
Mr. Tambourine Man
Bob Dylan (604x)

Nejžádanější texty uživatele Ondra

Kanikuly
Code Red (65751x)
I'm Not Missing You
Stacie Orrico (63259x)
Ticho
Ewa Farna (50763x)
Love To Be Loved By You
Marc Terenzi (47766x)
If That's OK With You
Shayne Ward (45409x)
Big Girls Don't Cry
Fergie (44110x)
Hříšná těla, křídla motýlí
Aneta Langerová (39894x)
So Sick
Ne-Yo (37638x)
Angels
Morandi (37368x)
Vítr (i Need A Hero)
Lucie Vondráčková (36700x)

POKECÁME?

Lituji, ale pokec na Ujdeto funguje pouze se zapnutým javascriptem.

Hlavní navigace

131 návštěvníků online, 28x BAN - © 2001-2024 Wulbo s.r.o. - info@ujdeto.cz (čeština | deutsch | english) [zpětné odkazy] | [tvorba www]