ts The future?s an empty promise I?m concerned and so tired of waitin? But we could sell it wooden horses full of nightmares And when they open This all
good times, Lord Ain't what they used to be I sit down on that bank Underneath the shade tree And I thank God the good times, Lord Ain't what they used
Mr. Johnson lives on the corner of our street And he laughs at our bell-bottom trousers and our bare feet And he calls us long-haired faggots as we walk
all this do's and dont's The futures an empty promise Unconcerned and so tired We could sell it wooden horses Full of madness and when they open This
tamales and they're red hot, yes she got 'em for sale Yes she got 'em for sale Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got 'em for sale Hot tamales and they
that I am And i guess I am And maybe I don't fit in in your point of view I can see your a rose in a bed of thorns in the morning dew They call me country
Good Times, Lord Ain't What They Used to Be I sit down on that bank underneath the shade tree And I thank God the good times, Lord, ain't what they
?ts The future?s an empty promise I?m concerned and so tired of waitin? But we could sell it wooden horses full of nightmares And when they open This
they red hot, yes they got em for sale, I mean Yes, she got em for sale, yeah Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale Hot tamales and they
Übersetzung: Johnson, Dessiree. Sie Shit stinken nicht.
Übersetzung: Jack Johnson. Sie tun sie nicht.
: (Robert Johnson) Hot tamales1 and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale I got a girl,
(Robert Johnson) Hot tamales1 and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale Hot tamales and they're red hot, yes she got'em for sale I got a girl, say
the Good Times, Lord Ain't What They Used to Be I sit down on that bank underneath the shade tree And I thank God the good times, Lord, ain't what they