John Williamson - Rosewood Hill - Sözleri

by John Williamson 





She had her back to him


As he walked in through the door


He'd been down in the forest


He said, "I cut me a walkin' stick palm


Down by the stingin' tree


Never thought I'd see the day I'd need one" 





She said, "The real estate people came again today


I made them a pot of tea


They said we'd fetch a million dollars


For our little old 'Rosewood Hill'


I guess they thought we might consider 





What would we do with a million


When we own paradise


Buy us an acre of sand


You tell those eager beavers


They won't be talkin' to me


This paradise is not for sale" 





He's the last of the old cow cockies


Up there in the clouds


Wouldn't white-coast gold shoes love to get


Their hands on his land 





Smell the crispy bacon


Spit and crackle on the fry


The promise of a brand new day


Shake the cloudy blanket


And throw it to the sky


The valley takes your breath away 





The crows are perched and waitin'


The family dreams of gold


Surely soon the old man will fade away 












		
			



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