The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
The Long Winters
There's a shanty in a town on a little plot of ground
Where the green grass grows all around, all around
And the roof's so torn so badly worn
It touches to the ground
Just a tumbledown shack that sits way back
About twenty-five feet from the railroad track;
Hanging on the line most all the time
Keeps calling me back to my little grass shack
I'd be just as sassy as Haile Selassie
If I were a king it wouldn't mean a thing
Put my boots on tall, read the writing on the wall
And it wouldn't mean a thing, not a doggone thing
There's a queen waiting there in a rocking chair
Just blowing her stack on Raineer beer
And I'm looking all around and I'm trucking on down
'cause I gotta get back to my shanty town
I'd be just as sassy as Haile Selassie
If I were a king it wouldn't mean a thing
Put my boots on tall, read the writing on the wall
And it wouldn't mean a thing, not a doggone thing
There's a queen waiting there in a rocking chair
Just blowing her stack on Raineer beer
And I'm looking all around and I'm trucking on down
'cause I gotta get back to my shanty town
I gotta get back to my shanty town