Contactez-nous

• Artiste: Adam Ezra
• Titre: Ballad of Ray Thomas
Assurez-vous que les corrections sont tout à fait exactes
S'il vous plaît, les mettez en évidence en quelque sorte!
Vous pouvez, par exemple, écrire
INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
CORRECT: avant la correspondant ligne correcte
Autrement, nous ne pouvons les corriger pas! Merci pour votre aide.
Well my name is Ray Thomas A truck north of here And I'll spin you a tale if you lend me your ear And ya keep me with a smoke and a beer Well I'm 65 now and I'm still on the road Doing locals up north in the snow and the cold But at night it's back home where I'll drop off my load And I'll go out to see my Michaela... And it's Fitzy's in town where us locals do dwell And the booze treats you right and it's all that they sell And my girl in the skirt come right over to me And she serves me a beer, and she's all that I see Oh Michaela... Michaela you're a vision to these eyes of mine And you can talk to me any and every old time You're the reason I'm still on this earth can't you see? You're a goddess, a poet, a beauty to me... Well I killed a man once back in '73 I was a doing a job down in West Tennessee When a man fell asleep and swerved into the on-coming lane They all told me I wasn't to blame... And I turned to the bottle, where I've been ever since And I ain't coming back 'till I'm no longer blitzed That boy's body was crushed all the way into his back seat By my eighteen wheel killer, my hands, and my feet... And on the hard days she knows and she gives me a smile And I tell her a joke, and we'll laugh for a while And she'll keep the beers comin' 'till two or 'till three And I wrap myself up in my own fantasy With Michaela... Michaela, you readin' my mind It's okay to forget for a while what's behind And you pardon my sentence with one mischievous line You make me truck home one more day at a time... Day at a time... Well my eldest son, Randy, took off with a shout And a shot crossed my jaw, and he knocked me clean out He stood up on his feet, man I taught him to be With my own swollen knuckles, like my dad did me... And my two girls they live her in town They each married a Jones boy, to love they have found Or at least they'll keep thinkin' till they hit the ground From a dream that grows old and faded... And my wife shuts her mouth cause I'm payin' the rent And I'll beat her like hell, and that's where I'll be sent For I've known all along since I was born where I'm bound To a place where I'll no longer hear the sweet sound Of Michaela... Michaela, oh angel, you'll turn me around You're the daughter, and lover, and meaning I've found And you are not cursed by the Thomas bloodline You do right know me, and thank your God and thank mine... Thank mine... Grew up as a farm-girl, she's paving her way And it's waitress by night and it's study by day That she'll soon make a fortune don't come as a surprise As she takes on the world with invincible eyes... Oh my blue collar princess, such wit and such grace As she snaps at the sinners who frequent this place As they try to caress her, or take a just taste For I'm sure that she tastes just like honey... Work now three years at Fitzy's, come May or come June And the men who come see her, they fill up the room And we each get a turn at her service divine As we're poured retribution, one a time By Michaela... Michaela, you never will know The extent your magic to us down below And Michaela, I'm yours 'till the day that I die But I know that your future is greater than I... Greater than I... Oh, my Michaela... Yeah... Yeah, yeah, yeah...