Lyrics:
the Devil always loses
So to keep them folks away from church, he offers them excuses.
In the summer it's too hot. And, in the winter, it's too cold.
In
Oh, the sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home
'Tis summer, the old folks are gay
Where the corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While
The old folks don't talk much
And they talk so slowly when they do
They are rich, they are poor, their illusions are gone
They share one heart for
Well I got on in Bristol, by the old Virgina line
With a suitcase full of dreams, and a brand new spendin' dime
I had a full bouquet of music,
make music all the day;
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy, and bright,
By'n by hard times comes a-knocking
survive
Country folks can survive
Because you can't starve us out and you can't make us run
'Cause we're them old boys raised on shotguns
We say grace,
was sorry
I didn't tell you my folks was wrong
Oh wait, sir, yes I did, I forgot that
But I'll do it again inside this song
You don't even know if I was
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home
'Tis summer, the folks here are gay
The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
While the birds
of Norfolk, true as earth upon the plough
Fighting for the right to live where are the rebels now?
The gentry thrive while poor folk starve the same old sorry
"Fight tuberculosis, folks." Christmas Eve, an old
junkie selling Christmas seals on North Park Street.
The "Priest," they called him. "Fight
at my folks like
Oh
Wait
Like I'm on a roll like
Oh
Wait
Foot down from the go like
All time gas in my go time pack
Breakin down earth by hand like toph
Stay by my lone all seven
Had to ghost, on old folks I can't keep round no
Niggas know how it goes tryna keep me down low
I can't fold, on my soul,
ride?
Does it carry lots of grown-up folks and little kids inside?
Is it bigger than our house? Well how can I explain
When my little boy and girl ask me
from the norms
And soon millions of folk
Records were being sold
By the early sixties, Dylan, Baez, Phil Ochs
Were doing intellectualized copies
don't give your money to that lyin cheatin man
Cold baloney and I'm home by myself
Well I'm five years old and it sure is cold
Mama's out cookin'
from the Golden Lil
She heard old Jake say
Girl, you're sittin' on a gold mine
No tellin' what it's worth
Some folks gets to be mighty well off
From
the middle where we're grown 'til we're gone, God willing
Just some good old boys and good old girls
Hunting red dirt dreams in a concrete world
Getting by
fortune selling voodoo and interpreting dreams
She was known throughout the nation as the Voodoo Queen
Folks come to her, from miles and miles around
This for all my country folk
Slamming them Caddy doors
Sitting out on the porch
Fresh from head to toe
This for all my Southern kin
Be proud
came and went
Said give us a day, help will be sent
Eyes to sky, but nota did we see
A few days passed, folks sure we're bent
Hippies Freezin’ in an old
I'm possessed by the dream I finesse to the green
Get it all for my kin it's do or die for my team
I been waiting long years just for someone to say
around her
I could ride forever in my old funky rolls
Just give me a bad hat and some old funky clothes
We don't care if folks are laughing
When we're
get a new attitude
He loved to sit up front and greet folks
Take their measurements and laugh at their jokes
You couldn't stop by without staying there
'em all laugh they never knew.
Oh all those scenes, to me it seems
Some folk never dream.
??, I feel a force
Rebel with some other cause.
Old
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