Motherless children have a hard time when mother is dead, lord.
Motherless children have a hard time when mother is dead, lord.
They don't have anywhere to go;
Wandering around from door to door.
Nobody treats you like a mother will when your mother is dead, lord.
I saw this Southern Rock band warm up for the Stones one tour. I thought they were introduced as the "four man guitar army" but I believe it was the Florida guitar army?
The Outlaws, Green Grass and High Tides Forever
As a rainbow grew around the sun
All the stars above who died came from
Somewhere beyond the scene you see
These lovely people played just for me
Hurry Sundown
She had hair as black as darkness, eyes of emerald green
And her voice was soft and tender, ooh she could sing
She will sing no more, or dance again or shake a tambourine
They had taken her away, she was dead and gone, hear the gypsies sing
Sprung from cages on highway nine
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line
Oh, baby, this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we're young
'Cause tramps like us
Baby, we were born to run
Traditional folk song attributed to Lloyd Chandler, countless versions, this one arranged by Camper Van Beethoven (this is first version I remember hearing):
Version by Ralph Stanley, From “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” soundtrack:
Open up your window, let some air into this room
I think I'm almost chokin' from the smell of stale perfume
And that cigarette you're smokin' 'bout scare me half to death
Open up the window, sucker, let me catch my breath