American Wheeze (Night Owl Session)

Yeah, I've grown tired
Of the words of the single man
Hangin' lifeless on his every word
Oh, old man

You don't understand, dear man
That little angel held out her hand
Sayin', "Father, Father I love you
Oh, praise Jesus I've got you"

Okay, yeah, billy goat
And we'll play farm
I didn't mean to spirit, stiff you
Nor to do you no harm

You say you got a bone to pick, well
There's plenty showin' on me
Come on up, yeah, bring your temper
We'll see, we'll see

Yeah, you may be the one
Come on, son
Bring your blade and gun

And if I die
By your hand
I've got a home
In Glory Land, yeah

Oh, play for it



Credits
Writer(s): Jean-yves Tola, David Eugene Edwards, Keven Mark Soll
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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