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Текст песни Nanci Griffith - John Philip Griffith

Nanci Griffith - John Philip Griffith слова песни

He was a simple man only to a stranger.And the kindness in his eyesI still remember.Now that he is old,they say he`s angry and he`s cold,That his soul is dying.He`s a wealthy man`s dream,and he`s a working man`s dime.He has stood in both men`s shoesin his own damn time.The hard times of the thirtiesstill linger in his mindWhen he is lonely.He`s out there in the cold,twenty years away from home.Does he dream about his old homein San Antone?He`s often watched the highways,but he`s a man of sixty-five.Where ain`t a soul in El Pasowho would give an old drunk a ride.Now, he traded in his draftsman`s penfor a fishing pole.And his mansion on the hillis an alley in El Paso.The anchors of the fiftiesstill hold to broken dreamsWhen his sorrows grow.He`s out there in the cold,twenty years away from home.Does he dream about his old homein San Antone?He`s often watched the highways,but he`s a man of sixty-five.There ain`t a soul in El Pasowho would give an old drunk a ride.Now, they tell me that John Philiploved to gamble in his day.And he burned his bridges wellwhen he walked away.He closed those corporate doors,left his children and his home . . .Now no one owns him.

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