"Streets Of Gold" lyrics
Well ran dry, cedar whiskey ran cold
He put down his plow, for forty-four
Some would come up, said he'd never go back to sleep
Said, "I've never had a plan for a better life
Just killed a man for his better night
And try as I may, try as I might
I'll never make it out alive."
So lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
Girl, it done gone by the time he woke
With whiskey in his eyes and his hair full of smoke
You wish someday she'd stay around for good
Said, "You've never been a man of the loving kind
Not that I care, and not that I mind
'Cause you're only gonna be here for tonight no more."
So lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
His hands have done curled, and his fists are gray
And 85 years and a ripe old age, wished somebody burned the page or two
Said, "I guess I'll sit around here and wait to die
Forgot how to laugh, I never learned how to cry
I wish I had wings, so I could fly away."
Lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
Lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
He put down his plow, for forty-four
Some would come up, said he'd never go back to sleep
Said, "I've never had a plan for a better life
Just killed a man for his better night
And try as I may, try as I might
I'll never make it out alive."
So lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
Girl, it done gone by the time he woke
With whiskey in his eyes and his hair full of smoke
You wish someday she'd stay around for good
Said, "You've never been a man of the loving kind
Not that I care, and not that I mind
'Cause you're only gonna be here for tonight no more."
So lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
His hands have done curled, and his fists are gray
And 85 years and a ripe old age, wished somebody burned the page or two
Said, "I guess I'll sit around here and wait to die
Forgot how to laugh, I never learned how to cry
I wish I had wings, so I could fly away."
Lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
Lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot
Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold
The people gonna know my name
