Lyrics:
the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Sleeping in the midday sun
Then tracks were lain across the plain
By broken old men in torrid rains
The towns
Up in the mornin'
Out on the job
Work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
It's no funny hanging around winter seems so numbing
Getting fat where I sit down do you suppose it's old age coming
I get this feeling I'm no good
Up in the mornin' out on the job, work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
Fuss
and before my life is done,
Got to find me a place in the sun.
Like an old dusty road
I get weary from the load,
movin' on, movin' on.
Like this tired
Up in the mornin', out on a job
Work like the devil for my pay
While that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
Fussed
and before my life is done,
Got to find me a place in the sun.
Like an old dusty road
I get weary from the load,
movin' on, movin' on.
Like this tired
Up in the mornin' out on the job, work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
Fuss
all my friends
A big old rope tied to a limb
And your a big old wuss
If you don't jump in
The water
Yeah when that summer sun starts to beatin'
into the sun
Greetin' all the people
Smilin' at everyone
I said "Hey listen Fat Man
I just can't get a break
Must I pay my whole life long
For
will treat you the best
When the sun goes down
'Yea-ah'
'Ooo-ee, hoo-wee'
'Yea-ah'
'Hee, hoo-oh'
'Yea-hi'
'Hoo, hoo-eee'
Good-bye old
And I'll come undone
The night is young but the sun's been down a long time
It's been awhile since that old sun departed
Let's take our time and finish what
You're bound to fall for the bugle call;
You're gonna brag 'bout the Bugle Call Rag.
Thin or fat, young or old;
Shake their shoulders bold.
Look...
Look at me,
I'm not just what you want to see.
Look at me,
I'm so young and I'm so old.
And God gave me a heart.
And God gave me
There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
And it's been the ruin for many a poor boy and me
Oh God, I'm one
My mother was
have gone on before
But I won't be alone as I make my last stand
For old blue tomorrow is holdin' my hand.
The sun soon no longer will shine on my
You're bound to fall for the bugle call;
You're gonna brag 'bout the Bugle Call Rag.
Thin or fat, young or old;
Shake their shoulders bold.
chins and a line of jive
He's a mellow old cat, a real hep fat
He be Mister Five by Five
That man can really jump it for a fat man
The only trouble
a big fat pack upon his back
And lots of goodies for you and for me
So leave a peppermint stick for old St. Nick
Hanging on the Christmas tree
It's
You're bound to fall for the bugle call;
You're gonna brag 'bout the Bugle Call Rag.
Thin or fat, young or old;
Shake their shoulders bold.
There is a house down in New Orleans
They call it The Rising Sun
It's been the ruin for many poor boys
And me, oh God I'm one
My mother was a tailor
'Til the sun don't shine
Takin' off my hat leave it to the boys
Get that old work monkey down off my back
All I want's a little peace and noise
Hit
Up in the mornin' out on the job, work like the devil for my pay
But that lucky old sun has nothin' to do
But roll around heaven all day
Fuss
fat flounders with
Jimbo at slack tide
Mailbox money sure seems bonafide
That old song just keeps playin'
From sea to shinin' sea
Mailbox money sure
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