As the Machine Rolls On
에 게시:2008년
플레이:0번
지속:00:41
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모으다
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공유하다

Garth Brooks-Alabama Clay

Album:Garth Brooks

First time he saw the ground get busted

He was ten and it was 1952

His daddy worked hard

from sunup to sundown

And the goin' got tough

behind them ol' grey mules

The farm grew to be a moneymaker

And the house he lived in

grew up room by room

The boy worked hard but soon

got tired of farmin'

So he slipped away

one night 'neath the harvest moon

His neck was red as Alabama clay

But the city's call pulled him away

He's got a factory job

and runs a big machine

He don't miss the farm

or the fields of green

Powered By @ William

Now the city's just a prison without fences

His job is just a routine he can't stand

And at night he dreams of wide-open spaces

Fresh dirt between his toes and on his hands

Then one day a picture came inside a letter

Of a young girl with a baby in her arms

And the words she wrote

would change his life forever

So he went to raise his family on the farm

His neck is red as Alabama clay

Now he's goin' home this time to stay

Where the roots run deep

on the family tree

And the tractor rolls

through the fields of green

His neck is red as Alabama clay

Now he's goin' home this time to stay

Where the roots run deep

on the family tree

And the tractor rolls

through the fields of green

His neck is red as Alabama clay

Garth Brooks-Alabama Clay

Album:Garth Brooks

First time he saw the ground get busted

He was ten and it was 1952

His daddy worked hard

from sunup to sundown

And the goin' got tough

behind them ol' grey mules

The farm grew to be a moneymaker

And the house he lived in

grew up room by room

The boy worked hard but soon

got tired of farmin'

So he slipped away

one night 'neath the harvest moon

His neck was red as Alabama clay

But the city's call pulled him away

He's got a factory job

and runs a big machine

He don't miss the farm

or the fields of green

Powered By @ William

Now the city's just a prison without fences

His job is just a routine he can't stand

And at night he dreams of wide-open spaces

Fresh dirt between his toes and on his hands

Then one day a picture came inside a letter

Of a young girl with a baby in her arms

And the words she wrote

would change his life forever

So he went to raise his family on the farm

His neck is red as Alabama clay

Now he's goin' home this time to stay

Where the roots run deep

on the family tree

And the tractor rolls

through the fields of green

His neck is red as Alabama clay

Now he's goin' home this time to stay

Where the roots run deep

on the family tree

And the tractor rolls

through the fields of green

His neck is red as Alabama clay

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