Lyrics:
supply equipment
That I get to use
I use a lift truck
I gave it a name
I call it crazy Alice
Got the name from John Wayne
We call the lifts mules
We use
your repentance
I stand by my decisions
And my consequences
Already been judged
Living my life sentence
All alone with no witness
Just these rhymes
a good campfire and a piece of backstrap
Joint rolled tight in my stocking cap
Six by six quartered on my back
Man, I hope I lay one down
I sat all day in
bursting
We protest dem killing
This region wan go kill me
Who kill mohbad tell me ?
Seh na by force leave me
Everyday dem stealing
My people dem wake up
Eyin lo yo emi o bo a fa paw paw ye
(You2sabi)
Badboyyys Two Bad boys
Haha
O shey oke si mi lenu timba ka e mo mule
(Fuq dem up patriq)
Sho sho
Timba
on your knees
Swim or fly, only please, come back to me
On a mule, in a jet
With your hair in a net
In a towel when you're wet
I don't care, this is
Sometimes in the evening, I'd hear him sing:
[Chorus:]
I gotta walk that lonesome valley. I got to walk it by myself. Oh nobody else can walk it for me. I
you say is 'no'
I need you
I doubt it
Rip the saddle off the mule
Get a tank full of fuel
Moving away, start again to a place I can rule
Life, I'll
never beheld the sun
Who is to say you are under it
Like the frozen rooftop rip's the
Toes from pigeon's feet
So too the mule's on desperate hands
I'd hear him sing
I've got to walk that lonesome valley
I've got to walk it by myself
Oh, nobody else can walk it for me
I got to walk it by myself
scrilify any means, fuckin up any sceams
Or any plots that you got, you best had get rocks
We gets knots, 40 aint tha lots fuck a mule
My lil nigga hit tha
face.
Got a mule to pull the plow, got an old red muley cow
And got a fancy mortgage on the place.
It blowed away, it blowed away,
All the crops I
Gone get myself a teasing brown
Because they are the best gals in your town
A teasing brown is the best brown after all
They will sit by you through
"By And By The Way"
words and music © Grant Maloy Smith
From the album APPALACHIA: AMERICAN STORIES
Deep in contemplation
Praying in my hands
Lord
breaks through
We'll load up the wagon and set the little one by our side
Take the gold into telluride
I'd like to lay you down on a cannonball bed
Put
I see by the papers that
He came from the old religion but possessed no magic skill
Descending from machinery, he left nothing from his will
get so quiet you can hear a motherfuckin' dog whistle when I walk by
Colt Seavers on a mule, stuntin' on that ass like the fuckin' Fall Guy
I don't
it is by sellin cocaine, but I'm sayin'
Use your brain homie, do the right thang! (Lemme talk to 'em)
Use your brain homie, do the right thang!
As I walked out tonight in the mystic garden
The wounded flowers were dangling from the vine
I was passing by yon cool crystal fountain
Someone
to feed my face
Got a mule to pull the plow
Got an old red muley cow
And I also got a fancy mortgage on this place
Well it blowed away
It blowed away
As I walked out tonight in the mystic garden
The wounded flowers were dangling from the vine
I was passing by yon cool crystal fountain
Someone
I've been broke and I cracked my bones
Shattered arms against ancient stones
Almost crocked with a twisted spine
Still by me, I am doing fine
I've
after this
Being poor is the reward for living by the rules
There was nothing left for them to do but Winnebago mule
So Hank and Tammy took to muling in
pas
Już nie będę z góry płacić
Znów spóźniona
Po kolana w mule, nagle puk puk, któż to tam?
Jak to kto, Twój prawnuk, dalej kop kop, nie chcę sam
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