The Old Bog Road-Hugo Duncan
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TXT The Old Bog Road-Hugo Duncan 文本歌词
The Old Bog Road - Hugo Duncan
I fade or here on grand way
This blessed harvest morn
But oh the ache that's send them
For the place where I was born
My weary hands are blistered
From working cold and heat
But oh to see a sign today
Have a feel of irish wheat
Had I the chance to wonder back
Or own a kings abode
I'd rather see
The high thorn tree
Down the old bag road
My mother died last spring time
When erins fields were green
All the neighbors said her waking
Was the finest ever seen
There were snow drops
And prim roses
Piled high beside her bed
And Ferrings church was crowded
As her funeral mass was said
But here was I on broadway
Just building bricks per load
When they carried hieght
Her coffin down the old bog road
A lifes a weary puzzle
Past finding out by man
I'll take the day for what it's worth
And do the best I can
Since no one cares a rush for me
What needs you make your mood
I'll go my way and draw my pay
And smoke my pipe alone
Each human heart
Must no it's grief
Though bitter be the law
So god be with you Ireland
And the old bog road
The Old Bog Road-Hugo Duncan 推荐歌曲
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（2010-06-21）